Such a Fool For You
by LemonStar
Summary: ..Daryl/Beth.. Random one-shots from my various Daryl Dixon and Beth Greene stories.
1. The Most

**This story is going to consist of one-shots from my various Bethyl universes when I get random ideas. This first chapter is from _The Most._ And this particular idea has been in my head for quite some time. **

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…

It happens and they all – everyone in the original family and a few members outside of it – have been expecting it and yet, when it actually does happen, they're all surprised and Beth has absolutely no idea what to do.

Rick and Beth have worked out an arrangement between them. Judith sleeps in Beth and Daryl's cell four nights a week and Rick takes her for the other three and Daryl loves lil' Asskicker – has always loved that little girl and has always been willing to do absolutely anything for her – but he loves it a little bit more when she's sleeping with her real dad in his cell for the night. It lets him and Beth be alone for the night and he doesn't care how obvious it is. As soon as dinner's done and dishes are collected and he goes over the night watch schedule with those on assignment, he grabs his wife's hand and pulls her into the prison, hearing her laugh softly behind him, her steps quickened to keep up with him.

He doesn't care what anyone says. He's married, damn it. And not only that but he's married to _Beth_ and only a completely blind, brain-dead man wouldn't want Beth if he had the opportunity to have her. It bothers him a little bit that everyone knows what they do when Judith isn't in their cell for the night but again, it doesn't bother him so much as to where he stops grabbing her hand and dragging her to their cell as soon as neither of them have any more to do for the night.

As soon as they are in their cell and the privacy curtain has swept back over the opening, Daryl is taking her clothes off as quickly as he can and Beth is laughing again but she helps him get herself naked. But when she tries to help with his own clothes, Daryl has to brush her hands away because he's not ready to have Beth touch him yet. He's wound so tight that if she touches him right now, he's going to blow and their night alone will be over before it can even begin and Daryl is going to do anything to make sure that that doesn't happen. He's not going to blow until he's buried inside of her.

Two days earlier, Glenn had come up to him and asked him to come to his cell with him. He wouldn't say why so Daryl went, curious and a little confused as to what was in Glenn and Maggie's cell that Glenn needed him for.

"Here, man," Glenn said and reached under the bed, pulling out a medium size cardboard box. Daryl pulled back one of the flaps to see that inside, there were at least a dozen boxes of Trojan condoms. Daryl instantly felt the tips of his ears turn red but his face remained impassive as he looked at Glenn with the silent question. "Mine and Maggie's supply," he explained. "Got it at the Big Spot when you, me, Beth and Sasha went."

"You two goin' celibate or somethin'?" Daryl grunted and Glenn grinned.

"No, but we are trying to get pregnant and condoms really won't help with that," Glenn said, standing back up, brushing off his knees.

Daryl wasn't too sure what to say to that. He realized that it wasn't exactly surprising. Maggie and Glenn had been together for a long time and this prison was their home – a home that was safe and good and Daryl supposed that he should have been expecting this.

He and Beth have already had this conversation with one another and are in complete agreement. He can't get her pregnant. He doesn't _want_ to get her pregnant because having a baby now can be a death sentence. He doesn't care that the prison is safe and they have doctors here. Daryl can't have anything happen to Beth. He can't have her die. And Beth has always wanted to be a mother, he knows, but Beth told him when he mentioned it that she already is a mother. She is the prison's teacher and main caregiver for all of the orphans and other children who lived at the prison and that's enough for her.

So, Daryl took the condoms from Glenn and stashed them under his and Beth's bed in their own cell and tonight is the first time he gets to use one. Usually, he pulls out and cums on her stomach but he knows that that always isn't foolproof. He hates that he has to be scared of having sex with his own wife.

Once their clothes are finally out of the way, his hands frame either side of her head and he kisses her deeply, almost desperately, and he gently begins pushing her back towards the bed. They have yet to rip the top bunk from the wall to make their bed larger and right now, they just have the single bottom bunk to sleep on but right now, Daryl doesn't really care about that because it's not as if he needs that much room anyway to be on top of Beth and inside of her.

Beth doesn't hear anything around them except for the beating of her own heart in her ears. She knows that others will be returning to their cells, turning in for the night, and she knows that they all know what she and Daryl are doing since Judith is sleeping in Rick's cell that night but it doesn't matter to her. She and Daryl are married and she and Daryl are always so quiet so it's not as if they'll be keeping all of them awake. They have never been like Maggie and Glenn, who seem to have no shame when it comes to sex – or volume control.

She feels the mattress beneath her and she grabs his head, keeping him right on top of her. Their lips hardly separate as she spreads her legs and his hand dives between them. They're always in such a hurry for the first time to be together but he always stops to make sure that she's wet and if she's not – which never seems to happen – Daryl makes damn sure she gets soaked before he thrusts into her.

Tonight, as always, Beth is wet and ready and her body is humming with anticipation. They've been waiting to use one of the condoms from what is now their supply and her hands rub over Daryl's stomach and chest, kissing his neck and shoulders as he rips one open with his teeth and rolls the latex on as quickly as he possibly can.

They're always so quiet. Everyone knows they're having sex but everyone doesn't need to hear them going at it.

"Oh, yes," Beth breathes out once her thighs are spread and Daryl guides himself towards her folds, pushing inside of her with his entire length. He exhales a breath as if relieved and they both remain still for a few passing seconds.

Daryl shifts, resting on his forearms on either side of her head, and their faces centimeters away and when he starts to move, his ass clenching between her thighs with each forward thrust, Beth brushes hair back from his face and their lips meet in short, breathless kisses.

Their cell is quiet for the next few minutes except for Beth's soft moans and Daryl's grunts and their mixed heavy breathing. Her arms are around his shoulders and then gripping his biceps and then holding his hair back from his face. Daryl's hips stay in constant movement and Beth begins rocking her body along with his, matching his rhythm, sighing his name.

And for the very first time since they began having sex, Daryl stays inside of her when he cums. And just knowing that he's cumming without pulling out, his hips pressed tightly to hers, his body slightly quivering on top of hers, Beth closes her eyes, arches her head back and moans softly as she cums as well.

They lay there for a few minutes, Beth's arms wrapped around him and Daryl's face pressed to the side of her neck, both of them still panting. The cellblock is quiet and Beth wonders where the other members of their family are. She wonders if Judith is asleep.

Daryl turns his head and kisses the corner of her jaw and she closes her eyes and smiles. He then slowly pulls himself back and she bites down on her lip to keep from whimpering as he pulls himself out of her. He stands up and with a tissue from the desk, he takes off the condom and drops it into the trashcan. He then turns and for a moment, he just stands there and stares at her, naked and flushed on the bed.

"Stop," she smiles, her face feeling warm, and Daryl smirks a little and shakes his head and she knows what he's thinking without him telling her. It's not the first time he has thought it; has wondered why the hell she's with him.

He comes back to bed, sliding over her body so he's laying between her and the wall, and Beth turns towards him, closing her eyes as she snuggles into him and he wraps his arms around her.

And for a while, it's quiet. His lips rest to the crown of her head and he closes his eyes and inhales her deeply. He can hear someone walking on the catwalk on the second level. Someone else coughs from their cell. And then, after a split second, like a crack of lightning, Judith begins to cry.

"Mama!"

The voice echoes throughout the quiet cellblock and both Beth and Daryl completely freeze. There is a second where Beth thinks that maybe she has just imagined it. But that doesn't make sense to her because _why_ would she imagine this?

"Mama!" And then the baby's cries grow even louder.

And then, her brain realizing – not yet accepting though – what it is, Beth flies from the bed. She grabs and pulls on her underwear and then grabbing Daryl's shirt, she yanks it on as she shoves the sheet aside, forgetting that Daryl's lying on their bed, completely naked. He hurries from the bed, grabbing his pants and another shirt and tugging them on, but Beth's already gone, out of their cell and hurrying down to Rick's. Rick has already come out of his cell, bouncing a hysterically crying Judith in his arms.

"Mama," Judith wails and when she sees Beth coming towards her, she extends her arms.

They're not the only ones who have come out of their cells at the sounds of Judith. Not because she's crying. They are all used to her crying. But because she's talking. She has been babbling for months now but has never actually formed any words that make sense. And now, just like that, she has said her first word.

And what her first word is, and who it's directed at, none of them are really surprised. Except for Beth, who's heart feels as if it's pounding in the bottom of her throat.

"I'm sorry," she apologizes to Rick and pulls Judith from his arms into hers.

Judith is still crying and she presses her wet and warm face to the side of Beth's throat. Beth rubs her back and does her best to shush her.

"Mama," Judith whimpers as she wraps her fingers around a lock of Beth's hair.

Beth's eyes fly to Rick, who's looking at her. "I'm sorry," she says again and she's aware of Carl and Maggie both watching and her daddy in the doorway of his own cell. She's aware of Daryl standing behind her.

"Couldn' even give us one night, huh?" He jokes with the baby.

Beth doesn't take her eyes off of Rick's. "I didn't teach her that. I take her to see Lori-"

"I know, Beth," Rick cuts her off and she can't read the man's expression. He doesn't seem angry, at least, but she really can't tell what he's thinking right now about this. After another moment, he moves his eyes to Daryl. "Sorry for interrupting," he says. "She's been fussy all evening and then she started crying and wanting Beth…"

Judith is quiet now and rests her head on Beth's shoulder and the baby smiles as Daryl makes her a quick face.

"It's alright," Beth says quietly, still rubbing her back, and she seems to be talking to both Judith and Rick. "She's calm again now. We can try again," she offers to Rick.

But Rick seems to hesitate and none of them are exactly surprised. Rick's getting better about spending time with his daughter and doing this best to build a relationship with her but it's still taking time and Judith still prefers to be with Beth above all others. She has been Judith's main caregiver since she was just a day old and Beth knows, in the back of her mind, that it makes sense that Judith looks to her as her mama. Rick has even told her that he's been expecting his daughter to think as such. But Beth means what she's told Rick. She hasn't been teaching Judith that she's her mama. She's been teaching Judith that's Beth. She's just Beth.

She looks down to Judith and then to Carl, who's still watching from his cell doorway. And what does Carl think about all of this? She expects the boy to be frowning at her or glaring at her. After all, he knows better than anyone that he's not Judith's mom. He had to put a bullet in the head of Judith's real mom after bring Judith into this world.

But Carl's face is as blank as his father's and Beth can't read it.

She takes a step closer to Rick. "Here," she offers.

"Mama," Judith whimpers as she presses her face to Beth's neck once again.

"A'righ', lil' asskicker," Daryl says and takes Judith from Beth's arms. "You'll be with us again for tonight but you're sleepin' in your pops' cell tomorrow night."

And with that, he turns and carries Judith back towards their cell.

Beth remains where she stands though, aware of her daddy looking at her as she looks at both Carl and Rick. For some reason, she feels herself getting upset and she shakes her head again. "I've been teaching her my name. I never taught her to call me that. I promise," she says and she's desperate that they believe her.

"We know, Beth," Carl is the one to speak and she looks at him and she doesn't why but she feels like crying.

Hearing Judith call her that has twisted her heart in her chest like squeezing water out of a sponge. She feels so ashamed that she _liked_ the way it sounded when Judith cried that out, wanting her, reaching for her and calling her mama the whole time. And then she wonders how terrible of a person she is for liking it because she's not Judith's mama. Her real mama, Lori, _died_ to give Judith life. She gave her the greatest sacrifice a mother could give her child and she always makes sure that Judith knows that. She takes her down the hill to visit Lori's grave at least twice a week.

Rick reaches out and touches her arm lightly. "It's okay, Beth," he says as if he can read all of her thoughts and he gives her a small smile but it does nothing to make her feel better and Beth watches with a heavy stomach as Rick and Carl both go back into their cells and she stands there, feeling unable to move.

"Go on back to bed, Bethy," Hershel speaks up and Beth turns to see her father giving her a small smile with warm eyes. "Go on."

Beth nods and she finally feels her feet able to move. She turns and walks slowly back to hers and Daryl's cell and before she reaches it, she can hear Judith giggling from within and usually, the baby giggling makes her smile but now, it makes her close her eyes and she leans back against the wall next to the entryway. When she's with her own father, Judith cries for her, thinking she's her mama, and she giggles when she's with Daryl.

She doesn't care how much she liked being called mama by the baby. This isn't right. She has to make this right somehow.

"Hey."

She opens her eyes and Daryl is standing there, his brow furrowed a bit as he looks at her.

"You comin' back in?" He asks her.

"Yeah," Beth nods and she wipes at her cheeks even though they're dry and she does her best to give him a smile.

"Hey," he then says again in a lower voice and steps up to her until he's in her personal space and she has to tilt her head up to look into his face. "It'll be a'right."

Beth looks up at him. "You're just saying that," she sniffles and his lips twitch in a little smile before he wraps an arm around her shoulders and with a kiss to her head, he walks them into their cell.

Judith is sitting up in her playpen in the corner, giggling to herself as she plays with her favorite stuffed animal – a stuffed elephant that Daryl had found her on a run a while back – and her collection of red plastic Solo cups. She looks up the instant Beth walks into the cell and she breaks into a toothy smile.

"Mama," she says with a giggle and despite wanting to tell her that she's Beth and not mama, Beth doesn't say anything. She can't help but smile a little and she leans in, resting her forehead to Judith's and Judith pats her hands on her cheeks.

Daryl walks past them and lowers himself onto the bed, propping himself up against the pillows and stretching out. He's quiet for a moment as he watches Beth and Judith, the way Judith smiles at her and the way Beth smiles in return and holds her close and starts to hum her a soft song before her humming leads into soft singing and Daryl smiles a little, watching them.

He never gets tired of watching Beth with Judith and the thing is, Beth's usually _always_ with Judith so why would it be a surprise that the kid looks to her as her mama. He knows Beth feels like she's betraying Lori, Rick and Carl all at the same time; like she's doing something wrong. But all she's done is take that baby and love her like her own when her dad was unable to, too deeply buried in his own grief to think of anything else.

There's nothing wrong with it. Daryl knows that Beth doesn't see it like that but that's the truth of it. That's the way it is. She's not betraying Lori. Lori died for Judith and by keeping Judith as healthy and happy as Beth does, Beth is keeping Lori alive.

He'll tell her that and he'll make sure that that's the way that Rick sees it, too, though Daryl doesn't doubt that Rick sees it exactly the same way.

"You, little lady, have ruined mine and Uncle Daryl's plans for the night," Beth is saying and Daryl smirks as she turns to look at him with a smile and it's the Beth smile that should always be the smile on her face.

Beth carries Judith to the bed and she sits down beside Daryl's legs and sits Judith up in her lap. She brushes back some of Judith's honey colored still baby-fine hair from her forehead and she then leans in, kissing her head. Judith smiles and snuggles in close to her chest and Beth wraps her arms securely and protectively around her.

"Mama," Judith says in a quiet voice and Beth gives her a squeeze and rests her cheek on the baby's head, her head turned towards Daryl.

They stare at one another for a few quiet minutes. He then gives her another small smile and she gives him a smile in return.

...

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 **Thank you very much for reading and please review!**


	2. House Call

…

He's pissed off. Really pissed off and his family doesn't have to be geniuses to figure it out. He's been pissed off so much lately and he hates bringing that around Beth and the kids but he can't seem to help it. He has a shitty day at work and it pours over at home. And he hates it and himself because Beth and the kids are so quiet and careful when he's in a pissy mood and everything about their behavior reminds him of how he used to be around his son-of-a-bitch old man, never wanting to make too much noise; never wanting to do _anything_ in fear of anything setting him off.

But he's no good at any of his attempts at trying to hide it from his family because his family knows him and when he leaves the garage and goes to the daycare center as he does nearly every other day to pick up Beth and the kids, they can all take just one look at him and know what kind of mood he's in. And they sit in the car, quiet, and when they all get back home, they're still quiet and not even Hunter argues when Beth tells the kids to go upstairs and work on their homework quietly until dinner.

And Daryl hates being around them when he's like this so he grabs his crossbow and stalks out of the house and into the woods, staying out there until after the sun sets and it's dark and the kids will more than likely be in bed. And Beth's in bed, too, but he knows she's not sleeping but even as he climbs in next to her in their bed, she doesn't talk and ask him what's wrong. She already knows and they both know there's nothing she can do to make this whole thing better.

Dale's old. Daryl looks at the man and doesn't consider him old considering he's one of the toughest guys he knows but the truth is, Dale _is_ old and he wants to retire and spend whatever years he's got left on this world, relaxing and fishing in his old row boat.

And that man has every right to do that.

That's not the problem. The problem is he brings his nephew into the garage. He's Hattie's older brother and a complete asshole and it almost doesn't make sense that he's a relation to Hattie because the girl running the garage's front desk is just so damn cool and comes over to the Dixon farmhouse for dinner sometimes and even babysits the kids sometimes when Daryl and Beth need a babysitter.

It's gotten to the point where Daryl wakes up in the mornings with a weight already on his chest because he has to go into the garage and he's already dreading it. The nephew's name is Nick and he's in his early thirties and thinks he knows absolutely everything about running an auto-garage though Daryl's pretty sure the snotty asshole doesn't even know how to change his oil.

Daryl hates being angry around his family and he hates that he lets some little punk ass dictate his moods so much and forces him to spend evenings away from his family so he doesn't burst open and lash out at them because that's the last thing he wants to do and that's the last thing any of them deserve.

He knows why Dale's done this. The kid is his nephew – he's family – and apparently, he went to business school and graduated at the top of his class – as he likes to constantly remind the four mechanics that his uncle had hired and had all worked for him for years. Daryl gets how important family is and Dale has retired and he doesn't have to worry about the garage anymore. He's hung up his tools in exchange for his fisherman's hat and little cabin further north and Dale's Auto Garage, a staple of their little town's business district for nearly fifteen years, isn't his concern anymore. He has passed the torch.

To Nick. And Nick is running the garage into the damn ground.

And Daryl's pretty sure he's getting a stomach ulcer.

Daryl's been Dale's best mechanic for years. From the instant Dale hired him, Daryl's been his best and Dale's never made that a secret from anyone. If someone has a car that's given them problems and seems like it will be better to just give up and trade it in, but they want to hold onto it for a little bit longer, Dale will hand the car over to Daryl and Daryl will work on it for hours until he gets it purring as close to new as he can.

Everyone in town knows Daryl's the best mechanic for miles and it always seemed perfect to them that he met his wife, Beth, when she had a flat tire and he changed it for her. It really seems like the only way Daryl Dixon could have ever met a girl to marry.

The other mechanics in the shop – Martinez, Oscar and Zach – are all good mechanics in their own right and with these four and Dale leading them, the garage has been a success. But it seems like Nick wants to take his uncle's garage and everything that's worked and worked well for the entire time since the business has been open, he wants to change it and put his own name on it and Daryl wonders how long he can last before just quitting. He has loyalty to the garage and to Martinez, Oscar and Zach – and to the Dale name – but Daryl doesn't know how much longer he can be pissed off all the time and have his wife and kids being quiet around him like he's no better than Will fucking Dixon.

He thinks of his and Beth's bank account. He makes good money at the garage. Ever since Dale gave him a raise before Abby was born, he makes good money at doing something he really loves doing and something he's really good at doing. Beth doesn't make that much money – teaching at the daycare center and teaching piano lessons and performing at the coffee shop twice a month. She does alright but it's not that much. And Daryl's woodworking side business is steady – someone always calling and asking for something new, whether it be for someone in town or someone further out. And he sells some of the meat he hunts and they sell their chicken eggs and maybe they'd be alright.

He knows he needs to talk with Beth about it but he's been so pissed off for so many days in a row, he doesn't think he'll be able to get the words out without all of his anger just exploding and he already knows that unfortunately, that anger will be taken out on her.

It's getting colder out – almost Thanksgiving – and the bay doors are closed against the frigid wind blowing outside and Daryl hasn't looked outside once today, too busy keeping his head down and not making eye contact with Nick and sticking to his work. The guys don't talk like they used to. They don't laugh or joke around and Nick doesn't let them play music anymore – too unprofessional, he told them. Now, there's nothing but the whir of tools and nothing much else besides that though sometimes, Daryl will hear Oscar humming his own music to himself and Daryl is so tempted to tell Nick to fuck off and walk right over to the stereo sitting silent on the shelf and turn on one of Oscar's Motown CDs.

At the end of the day, right at five, Daryl cleans up his station and Hattie is standing behind the counter in the office and she sees him through the glass window that overlooks the garage. He's heading towards the employee locker room and she gives him a small smile and he just gives her a head nod, continuing on his way to the locker room where he grabs his coat and his wallet, keys and pack of cigarettes and heads out the back door to where his truck is parked. He doesn't work late anymore. Nick doesn't want to pay overtime and the garage's hours are eight to five and that's that.

He also has put Daryl on a two cigarette break a day limit and as soon as Daryl pulls himself up into his truck, he turns the key in the ignition, rolls the window down and lights a cigarette. He sits there a moment, resting his head against the seat's rest behind him and closing his eyes, focusing on inhaling and exhaling out the open window. Light flurries are swirling in the air and he wonders how long it's been snowing.

Finally, he pulls out of the garage's back parking lot and pulls out to the street. He drives through town, stopping in front of the daycare center and he sees his three kids outside, Hunter and Abby running around the front lawn, their tongues sticking out, heads tilted towards the sky, as they chase after the snowflakes, and Luke is sitting on the top step, a textbook open across his thighs. He lifts his head when he hears the truck and he then stands up, turning and opening the front door, probably shouting to Beth that he's here.

She comes out a minute later, wrapping her green scarf around her neck and putting the white knit beanie cap on her head. She calls Hunter and Abby over and they run over, Beth adjusting Hunter's hat and tightening Abby's scarf and she laughs at their rosy cheeks. Daryl stays in the truck, keeping the heat blowing, and he takes one final long drag of his cigarette before flicking the butt out the window.

The back door opens and the kids clamber in, all with a "Hi, dad," in greeting and Beth climbs into the front passenger seat beside him and she leans over, kissing him on the cheek. Daryl doesn't say anything. His lips don't even twitch in a smile and he watches Beth's face fall a little because he's pissed off and it's all becoming the norm.

The kids can sense the heavy mood coming off of him and they're all quiet in the backseat as Daryl pulls away from the curb and heads out of town towards their house. Daryl tells himself to say something to Beth. To the kids. To break the mood that seems to be constantly hanging all of their heads. Not just his but theirs too because when he's in a good mood, they're all in a good mood but when he's pissed off, they're all quiet.

It really is like living with Will Dixon all over again except this time, he's his old man and his kids are all versions of him when he was a kid and his stomach churns. Luke's already lived like this. When his birth parents were pissed off or high, he'd go and hide in the bedroom closet to keep out of their way and Hunter and Abby have never lived like this because they've always had a good, happy and _safe_ life. Not that they're not safe now. Daryl will never use his fists to take out his anger – he'll kill himself first – but maybe, there's a part, deep down inside of himself who's worried that he actually might and that's why he storms off into the woods every night when he gets home.

So they – the kids and Beth, too – won't be scared of him doing that.

Inside their white farmhouse, Beth gives the kids the same directions as she has been doing so much lately as they take off their coats. Do your homework quietly until dinnertime and the kids all nod obediently and they head for the dining room table this time as Daryl heads upstairs, taking the stairs two at a time.

He takes off his coat and goes to his and Beth's closet in their bedroom, pulling out a sweatshirt to wear over his shirt so he won't freeze to death while out in the woods – even though freezing to death would probably be a blessing to his family right about now.

He sits down on the edge of the bed and takes off his boots, pulling on a thicker pair of socks, and he turns his head when from the corner of his eye, he sees Beth in the doorway. He doesn't say anything and she lingers there for a moment before crossing the room and he hears her climb on the bed behind him. He doesn't say anything and finishes pulling on his socks before tugging on his boots.

On her knees, Beth crawls behind him and her arms slip around his shoulders then and she places her head beside his. He closes his eyes for a brief moment. He actually can't remember the last time he and Beth had physical contact with one another - real physical contact besides pecks on the cheek - and it actually makes him want to go down to the garage and shoot Nick between his top of his business class eyes because the guy is succeeding in ruining all sorts of things for Daryl right now.

Beth sighs softly. "Quit," she then whispers. "We'll be alright, Daryl. We always are. Go down to the garage tomorrow and quit and we'll figure out what to do next."

And a part of Daryl wants to immediately refuse. He can't quit. They need the money.

But they have enough. They'll have Beth's paycheck and money coming in from all of the other work he does besides in the garage and they have savings and they _will_ be alright. Life really is too short to be this pissed off all of the time and he's made a good life for himself up until the point Nick took over the garage and he shouldn't be giving that asshole so much power over him.

Just thinking about quitting, already, the tension in his shoulders feel a little bit lighter.

He can quit and Beth's right as Beth usually is. They will be alright. They'll be just fine.

And finally accepting it, finally making the decision to quit the garage after weeks of being wound up and so pissed off, he exhales a deep breath – as if exhaling every bad thing inside of him – and his body almost seems to deflate and he leans back against Beth, his head finding her shoulder. And Beth's arms squeeze around his shoulders and her lips brush across his temple and she holds onto him.

"Want to help me with dinner?" She then asks quietly.

"Yeah," he agrees with a nod, his eyes still closed and his head still against her shoulder and her arms still around him and even after, neither of them move for a few minutes more.

…

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 **Thank you very much for reading and please review!**


	3. The Orchard

...

It's been the same dream for the past few nights. It's actually always the same dream and for the years it's been since he's gotten back, nothing changes in the dream. Nightmare. Whatever he wants to call it because it's something he has at night and he wakes up in the mornings, feeling more exhausted than when he had gone to bed hours earlier.

The little French town they are passing through. The sounds of the planes getting closer. The building… the kids playing in the courtyard… No matter how hard he tries in the dream to get to them in time and get them out of there, he can never change what happens. One minute, that building and those kids are here, playing ball and hopscotch, laughing and playing because to them, there's still things in this world they can find to laugh about, and within seconds, the bombs drop and the air explodes and the next, they're wiped from the face of this earth.

Daryl can still smell the smoke in the air and hear the screams and shouts of the other townspeople, the falling of rock from the rubble of the surrounding buildings, some still standing, and the impact has knocked him onto his back. He remembers lying there, his ears ringing, dirt on his face, and he can see the planes flying away, growing further and further away until they're nothing but dots before disappearing altogether.

No matter how cold it is outside, Daryl wakes up, sweating. His eyes snap open like a crack of lightning and it always takes him a few seconds for his brain to register where he is.

He's home. He's in his bed. He can hear and feel Beth sleeping beside him, her breath steady and deep as she sleeps a peaceful sleep with no nightmares plaguing her. He tries to get his heart beat slowed down; to get his breathing under control. He stares up at the white ceiling and tried to count cricket chirps outside their window. But even with his eyes open, he can hear the drop of the bombs and the explosion and the screams… he clenches his eyes shut but it doesn't help. He can still hear it and can still smell smoke and burning flesh in the air.

He sits up slowly, so not to wake Beth. The undershirt he sleeps in sticks to his back. Beth doesn't stir and he pulls the shirt off over his head, grabbing another one from the dresser. The dog tags around his neck, the tags he never takes off, hang heavily and stick to his chest. He needs some fresh air and a cigarette and he doubts he'll get back to sleep anytime soon.

Beth rolls over, the old mattress springs squeaking beneath her, and she rolls towards the empty spot where he lays every other night. Her hand comes to a rest on his pillow but her subconscious doesn't sense something wrong or that he's not there anymore and she continues sleeping. He's glad for that. He doesn't want Beth to wake up because then she'll know that he's had a nightmare and she'll do what she can to help him and she'll worry about him because that's what Beth does but he doesn't want her to.

These nightmares are his to deal with; his burden to bear. He doesn't want them to touch her. He's never talked to her about the war and what he experienced over there and she has never asked; knowing that he won't tell her. Sometimes, he'll say something. He'll let it slip but it's only when he wants it to. She never expects it and no matter how long it's been, he knows he'll never open up about it. There's just some things that are best to stay buried.

Shawn's getting to be that age where he asks no less than two dozen questions a day. The almost six-year-old wants to understand everything and he trails after Daryl all day, asking him about the blue sky and why their cows moo while their pigs oink and why isn't it the other way around and Daryl is bracing himself for his oldest son to ask him about the war or the dog-tags around his neck but none of those questions have come yet. But Daryl knows that eventually, they will, and he's not too sure how he'll tell his son that he doesn't want to talk about it. He didn't understand it when Beth had been pregnant with their first boy. What did he know about being a father? But it is something he learned damn quick; within the first few minutes after Shawn was born, still crying at the top of his lungs. Being a father is worrying every single second of every day about his kids and what _might_ happen.

He leaves the bedroom silently and like he does every other night, he checks on the kids in their room. Shawn and Henry share a bedroom across the hallway and both boys are fast asleep. The farmhouse can get a bit chilly at night and while Shawn is curled into a ball beneath his heavy blankets, Henry has kicked everything off and is flopped on his back, sleeping deeply. Not wanting him to get cold – though the little boy always seems to be hot no matter what – Daryl crosses the room and covers him again with the blankets even though he knows they'll be kicked off again by dawn.

In the room next to his and Beth, the twins sleep in their cribs. Patrick and Hannah. And Daryl checks on both of them, moving Patrick's stuffed bear closer to him and brushing baby fine hair from Hannah's face. He would keep watching them because looking at any of his kids is able to calm him down and show him that the earth does keep turning and good things are still capable of happening but he still really needs that cigarette and he still smells smoke in his nostrils, stubbornly refusing to leave.

He walks down the stairs and unlocks the back door in the kitchen, all moving silently – a skill he had picked up from years of hunting rather than his time in the army – and when he steps outside into the cold night, he exhales a deep sigh and then inhales a greedy gulp of air, feeling it shred at his lungs like glass. It is cold and he only wears his pajama pants and a sweater he had grabbed on his way out to wear over his tee-shirt. It is too cold to be standing out here but Daryl isn't nearly ready to go back inside and lie in bed, blinking up at the ceiling for the rest of the night because he knows there's no way he'd be able to get back to sleep.

He pops the cigarette in his mouth and lights it with a match and tilts his head up towards the sky as he exhales that first puff. The sky is blank like spilt ink that night and there's no moon but there are stars across the whole thing; way too many stars to count but after only a moment, he's able to find the North Star and he smokes and looks up at it; thinking of how the same stars hang in the night sky over France.

His mind goes back to that little town. He wonders if they rebuilt their buildings; if they had more children to replace the ones who had died that day. Or if they just sat down and gave up.

The cabin at the bottom of the hill – the one he used to live in and the one where their farmhand, Jimmy, now lives – is dark as it should be at this hour but looking towards one of the barns, the one where they keep the animals, he sees a small glow coming from the hayloft and with the cigarette dangling from his bottom lip, Daryl heads towards it. He had tugged on his boots before stepping outside but he hadn't tied the laces and he doesn't stop to tie them now.

Inside, he can smell all of the animals – their cows, pigs and horses – most sleeping, some making sounds in their sleep, but some are moving around, whether to keep themselves warm or just feeling restless from being in their stalls and pens for the night. Daryl heads up the ladder and in the hayloft, Merle lies in a bed of hay, a scratchy wool blanket pulled over him and a book open in his hands, reading by the lantern he has burning next to him.

Merle's got a room in the house – the attic – but more nights than not, he doesn't sleep in there. He doesn't say – he doesn't say anything anymore – but Daryl knows that he can't stand the idea of being inside for too long. He feels too closed in; like the walls are shrinking in on him and no matter how cold it is, more nights than not, Merle comes up to this hayloft to sleep and just to be. He had developed a love and devotion to the animals and he's their main caregiver and he likes being near them.

Merle doesn't seem surprised when Daryl comes up in the hayloft and comes to sit down close to the square door, blowing his smoke outside. He sits up a little and lays the book across his chest. Daryl doesn't say anything to him though and after a moment, Merle picks up his book again and resumes his reading.

If anyone knows what it's like to have nightmares, it'd be Merle. Merle who's just a shell of who he used to be before the war; before he was in that POW camp and lost his hand; before he recovered in that hospital in England and finally found his way home. Daryl doesn't know the last time his brother spoke; who heard his voice for the last time or even what his last word had been. Merle used to be the loudest, most foul person Daryl had ever known but not anymore. Definitely not anymore.

He may not talk anymore but he definitely listens and Daryl knows that he can tell his brother about everything that he had seen and done in France for those three years but saying it out loud won't help him keep it buried and that's what he wants; what he wants more than anything. He has the best life now – a wife and kids and this farm and he doesn't want anything from France touching anything in the life he's got for himself now.

"What you readin'?" Daryl asks, his voice more rough from having not used it for a while.

He turns his head towards Merle and takes another drag of his cigarette and Merle lifts his book up so Daryl can see the title. _Moby Dick_.

"Never read that one. It any good?" He asks and Merle shrugs in response.

Merle then turns a few pages, his eyes scanning over the words, searching for something particular. And once he finds it, he keeps the book open as he sits up and passes it over to Daryl. Daryl leaves the cigarette on his bottom lip and leans in closer to the lantern so he can see the page and Merle points to a specific paragraph.

 _"_ _Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people's hats off - then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can."_

Daryl reads through the paragraph and then reads it one more time. Without a word, he hands the book back to Merle.

"Thanks," he says. He knew Merle would get it.

Merle nods his head once and then settles back against the hay and begins reading again.

"So, this mean you gonna come huntin' with me tomorrow?" Daryl asks and without lifting his eyes from the book, Merle nods again.

Somehow, he falls asleep again, laying down in the hay across from Merle and he wakes up to the crow of the rooster, announcing to the farm that a new day has arrived. Daryl's eyes flutter open and his brain is muddled and confused and it takes him a second to remember where he is and to remember that he hadn't dreamt anymore. He expects Merle to be there but the scratchy blanket is folded with army precision and his book lies on top of it and he's gone. He's more than likely below, feeding and seeing to the animals. Beth's probably awake now, too, and she'll see that he's not there next to her and she'll instantly begin to worry – which is what he wanted to avoid doing in the first place.

He sits up, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes, waking himself up and he then stands up on stiff legs, grunting as he stretches. He's got to get back to the house, help Beth with the kids and get himself ready for a day of work because even though it's winter, they live on a farm and there's always something that needs to be done.

Down the ladder, just as suspected, Merle is seeing to the pigs and Jimmy is on a stool, beginning work on milking the cows. Jimmy isn't a morning person for as hyper as that kid is any other time of the day and he sees Daryl and simply gives him a head nod, his hands never stopping gently squeezing at the udders, filling a bucket with the milk. Daryl nods in response and he then looks to Merle, who's already looking at him.

"We'll head out after lunch," Daryl tells him. "Maybe catch Beth a rabbit or somethin' for dinner."

Merle nods in agreement and Daryl heads out of the barn. Still only in his pajama pants, tee-shirt and sweater, he's damn cold now that he's left the warmth of the hay in the barn. He crosses the grass and heads up the stairs to the backdoor. But as soon as he steps in the mudroom built outside the kitchen, Beth is standing there, Hannah on her hip. She's wearing her nightgown and housecoat and her long hair has been braided so she could keep it from her face while she's making breakfast.

She stares at him and he stares at her, not too sure what to say. He then looks at Hannah. All the kids look like him and Hannah is no exception. Light brown hair, blue eyes that can sometimes change colors to green if the sun hits them a certain way. Beth says that their eyes remind her of the ocean. They've all got their mama's pale delicate skin though and he thinks sometimes about how, when they're old enough, they'll burn when they help him outside after too long.

"You can't do that, Daryl," Beth then says and her voice is soft. For some reason, he had been expecting her to scold him with a hardness. "I woke up and…" she trails off then as if she can't say the words without hurting herself.

"I know," he nods and reaches out, running a finger over their only daughter's little knuckles and Hannah smiles in response. "'m sorry," he then looks back to Beth's face. "I don't wanna be 'round you though when that happens."

And it happens a lot. She knows that. He wants to tell her that she should be used to it but he stays quiet because he's too tired to really say more than he already has.

Beth stares at him and Daryl knows she wants to say something but she remains silent.

She's still, to this day, the prettiest girl he's ever seen. When Hershel gave him a job and brought Daryl back to the farm with him, Daryl took one look at Beth and her long blonde hair reminded him instantly of Veronica Lake but Beth's looks are in a league above any of those starlets in Hollywood. When they lived in Los Angeles, he honestly thought that she'd catch the eye of some casting director and she'd be a star now.

Some of his buddies in the regiment wound up marrying French girls though they couldn't really speak French to them and the girls sure as hell couldn't speak English but the guys married them and brought them back to the US with them. They said at the time that they had never met women prettier or nicer than the French girls. But they had never met Beth Greene.

After the war, even though he had come back, alive, Daryl was pretty certain that his life was over anyway because he was still fighting in that war every single day and couldn't leave it. But then he saw Beth and heard her singing Judy Garland and this girl saved his damn life. And he doesn't see anything wrong with pulling himself away from her when he feels the war coming back. She's married a guy who's a mess inside most days and he should spare her of that as much as he possibly can.

But Beth doesn't understand because that's not who Beth is. Beth is the kind of girl who wants to get down in the trenches and crawl on her belly right next to him.

"Stay here," Beth says after a moment and she turns, going into the kitchen.

When she comes back out into the mudroom, Hannah is no longer in her arms and he stands there as she comes to him. Without a word to him, she steps up against him and her arms slide around his waist and her head turning, resting on his chest, she hugs him. And without any wait on his part, Daryl wraps his arms around her, hugging her tightly in return. And for the first time in hours, he feels like he can finally breathe easy again.

…


	4. Cornerstone

…

"Beth?"

Her name being spoken broke her from her thoughts and she brought her eyes from staring at one of the church's stained glass windows to see Father Gabriel there, standing in the aisle in front of the pew she was sitting in, smiling down to her.

Beth did her best to smile in return. "Hello, Father Gabriel," she greeted.

The man looked at her for a moment and then looked around at the different stained glass windows and the way the setting sun outside shone through all of the colors, almost making it look as if the very air was on fire.

"Is it alright if I'm here?" She then asked.

Father Gabriel continued smiling. "I leave the doors unlocked during the day for this very reason. Sometimes, a person just needs an opportunity to sit and be with their thoughts. And sometimes, a person needs to speak those thoughts to someone."

Beth looked down to her hands folded in her lap; to her wedding band and engagement ring on her left third finger. She rubbed her opposite thumb against the small diamond. She had told Daryl that she hadn't needed an engagement ring but, of course, Daryl had insisted. He had asked her to marry him and she had hesitated for just a few moments before accepting. _Of course_ she wanted to marry Daryl. But it was Daryl marrying her that made her unsure for those moments because she was such a mess and she didn't care what Daryl said. He wasn't. Not like her. And he deserved to be with someone who wouldn't be such a burden on him.

But she knew that Daryl loved her and he told her in so many ways without actually saying the words that he wanted to be with her and Beth had never been happier than when she said yes to his proposal. And a few days later, he had shown her the engagement ring he had bought. To make things official, he said.

"Daryl and I had a fight this afternoon," Beth heard herself saying before she even really thought about it.

"Ah," Father Gabriel nodded knowingly. "Not that I know, personally, but I hear that the first fight for a married couple is usually a brutal one."

Beth didn't argue with that. "And our trailer… there's no where really to go that would give us both space so I just left and started walking and found myself here."

Father smiled at that and said nothing. Instead, he gestured to the pew in front of her and Beth nodded. The man eased himself down, sitting sideways so he could look at her. He didn't say anything and Beth exhaled a deep breath. He was right. It felt good to be talking with someone – not Daryl or a friend or a family member but someone who was completely impartial to the entire situation. And she had always felt comfortable in the church. Her parents had raised her in faith and even after everything she had gone through already in this life, Beth believed in God and good and going to Church each week always made her feel lighter inside.

And after the fight with Daryl, she needed to feel like that again at this point in time.

"There's a support group," she began. "They meet every Saturday night and Daryl… he found out about them and thought that maybe, I should go."

She didn't explain a support group for what. She knew Father Gabriel would know. _Everyone_ in town knew. She supposed it was even still a little obvious. Not that she looked as badly as she once had but she still was underweight and she sometimes stood completely naked in front of the full-length mirror hanging on the back of their bedroom door and wondered what Daryl saw in her. Because in Beth's mind, she just wasn't that nice to look at. Not now. Now, she was just all sharp bones and angles and she ate now. She never skipped a meal and wrote down everything she ate in a day and she _was_ better and she would only just keep getting better.

But still, she looked at herself naked and wondered what on earth Daryl saw when he looked at her and why he had ever wanted to marry her. Daryl was a handsome man – though he gave her a look as if she was insane whenever she said it – and could have nearly any woman in their town he wanted. There had been more than one woman who came to the garage and specifically requested Daryl to work on their car.

And he always got so angry when she mentioned that to him.

"And you don't wish to go to a support group?" Father Gabriel asked.

Beth shrugged, still looking down to her hands. "I'm not against going, but… he's going to want to come with me and I don't want him to come and see and hear… all of that."

"Ah," Father Gabriel responded with a knowing nod. "And you don't wish to expose your husband to your demons."

Beth didn't answer him but she lifted her eyes to look at him. Exactly, she said silently. It was one thing for Daryl to be around her – to see her naked and see her writing in her food journal and listening to the stories she sometimes told him of how'd she used to pretend she'd eaten or how she'd hide food under her bed – but it would be an entirely different thing for Daryl to go and see others like her and hear their stories. It would only spotlight it even more that he married someone sick and obviously insane.

"But when he married you, didn't he take a vow to be with you through good times and bad?" Father Gabriel asked.

"Yes…" Beth answered, almost reluctantly. "But when he said that, he didn't know _exactly_ what he was promising."

"And what about in sickness and health, which he also vowed to?" Father Gabriel continued, looking at her and not looking at anything else. And Beth did her best to keep looking at him but after a few moments, she dropped her eyes to her lap again.

She didn't know what to say to that, because yes, Daryl had vowed that. In sickness and health. She sighed and shook her head. "He did, but, he didn't know what he was getting into when he said that."

"It sounds like you're just assuming what Daryl thinks," Father Gabriel pointed to her. "It also sounds as if, perhaps, you're underestimating him."

Beth shook her head in disagreement. No, she wasn't underestimating him. Daryl hadn't had an easy life. Being beaten, going hungry more days in his childhood then not, his mom burning to death in a house fire, getting beaten even more… No, she wasn't underestimating him and what he could handle because her husband was a survivor. He had had a tough, hard life that had never eased up but he had survived it and had succeeded in making something of himself and for himself.

Daryl Dixon could handle anything that came his way. That didn't mean he should have been expected to. Daryl had earned to have an easy life from now on. But he had decided that he would marry her, of all people, and she knew that she wasn't easy.

"I don't think so," Beth finally responded with a shake of her head. "I mean, yes, I know, for a fact, that he can handle anything. But, that doesn't mean that he should have to."

"And have you told him that?" Father Gabriel asked.

"Yes." Because she had – more or less. She sighed then and looked down to her rings.

"Beth, may I ask why you married Daryl?"

 _Because I'm selfish_ , she answered to herself. "Because I love him," she said to him and nothing was more true than that.

"And I assume he loves you, too, and there's not much you can do to stop him from that," Father Gabriel said. His eyes moved past her then, at the doors to the church, before looking to Beth. He stood up with a gentle smile. "Beth, there is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear."

And with that, the man turned and headed up the aisle, towards the altar and the door that led to his office. Beth didn't turn. She knew he was there. She could feel him. From the corner of her eye, she could see Daryl come to stop at the end of the pew she sat in and without a word, without looking at him, she moved down, making room. He sat down beside her and for a few passing minutes, neither of them said anything.

He smelled like smoke and dirt and she knew that he had both been smoking recently and that he had ridden his bike. She had been so distracted, she hadn't even heard it.

"Figured you were here. I went to your pops first but when you weren't there… I know how much you liked the stained glass at sunset," Daryl spoke then, his voice gruff as always and quiet because he always talked quiet when he was in the church.

Beth nodded. "I just needed to think about some things."

"Yeah," Daryl gave his head a nod, understanding. "Beth, we don't have to go to the meetin's. I just thought it was somethin' that might help."

"I know, and it means so much to me that you even found something like that for me," Beth said and she finally turned her head towards him to see that he was already looking at her. "But I should go on my own."

He frowned at that. "You go, I go," was all he said.

"You shouldn't have to hear any of that, Daryl," Beth told him.

Daryl looked at her and she knew that he was doing that thing he sometimes did where he was listening to her but his mind was already made up and there was little she could do to convince him of anything otherwise. She couldn't help but sigh softly. She had married a ridiculously stubborn man. Though, she supposed, he probably thought the same thing about her.

"I gotta tell you somethin' and I figure here would be the best place to tell you 'cause you can't yell at me in here," Daryl said.

And for a moment, Beth stiffened because she knew what was coming. She was surprised it had taken this long, in all honesty. And though she had been expecting it, she still felt her stomach sink to her feet.

"Beth," he said her name and she forced her eyes to look at him. "I ain't goin' anywhere. You keep expectin' me to leave and 's not goin' to happen."

Beth blinked at him and she wasn't sure what to say because what he said was the truth. It had always been the truth. Even before they got married, she had just assumed that he wouldn't stick around. Why on Earth would he stay with her? She always told him that she had twenty pounds of baggage.

But his response to her was always the same when she mentioned it.

She carry ten and he'll carry the other ten.

"So, you gotta tell me what I can say or do for you to finally believe that 'cause nothin' I've done or said so far has gotten you to believe that," Daryl said and he was watching her so intently, never breaking contact with her.

A strand of dark hair was hanging down near the corner of his eye and she lifted her fingers to brush it back for him. And as she brought her hand down, Daryl took hold of it and didn't let it go. She felt herself moving closer to him and he kept holding her hand as he put his other arm around her shoulders, Beth nestling into him in response.

She kept looking up at him and he kept looking at her and the colors in the church were changing as the sun continued sinking lower in the sky. Everything was turning a more brilliant shade of blood orange and was even tainting their skin that color. It was such a beautiful moment and Beth was glad that Daryl was there with her for it.

"If I talk… when we go to the meetings and I wind up taking…" she trailed off and paused, swallowing a thickness in her throat and Daryl kept staring at her, watching and waiting for her to continue. "If I talk, you can't look away from me no matter what I say."

And Daryl responded almost immediately to that – as if he didn't need any time at all to think of his next words and maybe he didn't. Maybe he didn't have to think because his words were what he wanted to say all along.

It was his turn to lift his fingers how, brushing back a blonde strand of her hear stuck to her cheek. "If I ain't lookin' at you, I'm lookin' at nothin'."

…

* * *

 **Thank you very much for reading and please review!**


	5. Waiting on You

**Writing domestic fluff is what I do. You have been warned.**

* * *

…

"Dixon's," he answers the phone on his desk on the third ring.

"Hi." It's Beth and she sounds like she's just gotten back from running in a marathon. "Can you do me a huge favor this afternoon?"

"What's up?" Daryl asks, standing up to close the door to his office because right now, the guys are laughing as they jokingly blast and single along to a Britney Spears song and he would much rather listen to Beth right now. And the only reason he knows that it's Britney Spears is because this isn't the first time the guys have done this. On Friday afternoons, when they're finishing up the last of the cars for the day, they tend to get a little antsy.

"Well, there is a bridal shower tomorrow afternoon and the mother of the bride _just_ called me. Guess who forgot to order the mini cakes that are wanted for the bridal shower?" Beth sighs heavily and Daryl doesn't mean to because it's obvious she's stressed at hell, but he can't keep himself from smiling a little.

"'m guessin' the mother of the bride?" Daryl answers.

Beth sighs deeply. "I'm going to be here for a while tonight, but she's offered to pay me double the amount of what I would normally charge…" she trails off and they both know that while they are doing fine with both their respective businesses, neither would ever think to turn down that kind of money.

"Need me to bring you somethin' to eat?" He asks.

"Don't worry about me. Can you pick up Sam from the motel and Molly from dance class?"

"Yeah. Course." Daryl then pauses and waits a second. "That's the huge favor?"

He loves Beth. Loves her damn more than anything else in this world, but when she does that, it bothers the hell out of him. She doesn't do it all of the time, but sometimes, she acts like him taking care of their kids is some huge burden she doesn't want to saddle him with.

"Well, I know it's not something you usually do and I wasn't sure you'd have time for it," Beth replies and he knows that she doesn't mean to imply that he can't take of their children. That probably has never even crossed her mind before. It's just Beth being Beth.

"I think I can manage," Daryl answers a bit dryly. "I was just headin' out now anyway."

"Thank you, Daryl. Wish me luck," Beth then says with a smile evident in her tone.

Daryl's own lips twitch. "Good luck. Talk to you later," he says and they both hang up after an exchange of I love yous.

He gathers his things and shuts his computer down and he takes the lockbox of cash with him as he leaves his office. He heads to the stereo and turns Britney down, not completely off, and it instantly gains the attention of the other guys.

"Gotta go pick up my kids," he tells them. "Who's good to lock up tonight?"

"I got it, boss," Chase volunteers and Daryl can't help but frown a little.

Chase is a good mechanic – even if he was one of his brother's clients when Merle was still around, dealing. Daryl's never had any complaint about the guy's work. The only time he's had a problem with the guy is when he decides to show up to the garage, high as a kite and Daryl's had to kick him out for the day. He won't fire him though. For the most part, Chase is able to keep his drug habit away from work and Daryl isn't going to fire a guy for what he does on his off time if it doesn't interfere with his work.

But still, he's not too sure if he's comfortable leaving him on his own at the garage.

"I can stay and lock up, too," Tiny, another mechanic – monstrous despite his nickname - speaks up.

"Thanks, you two," Daryl says, nodding to them before turning Britney's volume back up. "See 'ya tomorrow," he says to them as he heads for the back door.

 _Dixon's Auto Repair_ is open until five each evening, except on Saturdays when it closes at noon, and stays closed on Sundays and Mondays. When he first bought and then opened the garage, Daryl had been unsure of what his hours should be; not sure what he would have to do to keep himself in the black every month. But before he retired and Daryl bought the business from, Dale had run a successful garage for nearly thirty years so it was obvious that the man knew what he had been doing. So Daryl just does what he did and so far, it seems to be working out for everyone just fine. People in Evergreen knew Dale's hours and Daryl doesn't want to go changing too much on them.

Evergreen, Georgia is a small town. Smaller than small. Most people who drive through it – if they've gotten off of the highway and have gotten turned around – blink and wind up missing the whole thing. But the people who live there, most of them, can't imagine living anywhere else and they all help one another out whenever they can.

With Daryl and Beth both working – Daryl with his garage and Beth with her bakery – it seems as if everyone has helped at one time or another with watching their kids for them. Most days though, their baby boy – Sam – is at the Evergreen Motel where Axel and Oscar, the two owners, watch him. Beth and Daryl had both been living at the motel when they met one another and had even gotten married at the motel. It is a special place for them – as strange as that might sound to others.

It's the classic L-shaped roadside motel and it might seem a little run-down but Oscar is a clean-freak and they still have the cat, Cornelius, that Beth found all those years ago, keeping the place clear of any vermin that might even _think_ of moving in.

"Good afternoon," Axel greets him as he steps into the front office.

It took Axel time with Daryl. He loves Beth, but hadn't necessarily approved of her choice of partner in the world, Axel operating under the assumption that the world would be a much better place if there were no Dixons on the face of it. But he has slowly come around, realizing that Daryl Dixon isn't Merle Dixon and Daryl Dixon seems to be a pretty decent guy; as decent as a Dixon can be, in Axel's opinion.

"Hey. How was he today?" Daryl asks, walking around the counter, following Axel into the office where they have a desk and filing cabinet set up. As well as a play pen for Sam on the days they watch him, which is where the eleven-month-old is now, sitting up, gnawing on the corner of one of his board books. And the instant he sees Daryl, his entire face lights up.

"Good as gold, as always," Axel smiles as Daryl bends down, hoisting his son into his arms.

"Thanks, man," Daryl says, looking at Sam with a smile, Sam matching it with one of his own, and he then falls heavily into Daryl's chest, his head resting upon his shoulder.

He and Beth have two kids – Sam and six-year-old Molly – and both look like him with their hair the same light shade of brown it was when Daryl was a little kid and his same blue eyes. Beth jokes that she seems to be making him a little Dixon army.

"Beth already paid you for this week, right?" Daryl asks as Axel gathers Sam's things into the diaper bag and hands it over to Daryl.

"Yep. And I already put the check back in the mail to get back to her," Axel says.

Daryl just smirks and shakes his head. Axel and Oscar never take Beth's checks, but it's a dance they all do with one another. Beth writes them a check, they send it back to her, and she then returns, slipping cash in an envelope into their mailbox. Daryl doesn't understand why she just doesn't do that the first time, but Beth just shrugs when he asks and tells him that it's just something they do.

Axel gives Sam a wave and makes a face that makes the baby laugh as Daryl carries him out of the office, back to the car.

Every year, they drive across the state to spend Christmas with Beth's sister, Maggie, and her husband, Glenn, and their son, Henry, and this past year, they had all gone into Atlanta to see a performance of _The Nutcracker_. Molly sat on his lap during the performance with wide eyes and a parted mouth and as soon as they walked out after the show, she declared to all of them that she wants to grow up to be a ballerina.

And Beth being Beth signed Molly up for dance classes immediately. Jesse teaches both dance and art classes in a studio in her house's basement and Molly has only been taking them for four months, once a week, but she can hardly talk about anything else.

Parking on the street, Daryl takes Sam from his car seat in the backseat and then carries him down the steps to the separate entrance Jesse has that goes into her basement. There is a space set up for parents to watch and all of the chairs are currently occupied by moms of the other girls in class and they all turn their heads and look at Daryl as he steps inside. They all give him smiles and Daryl nods his head politely to them and he wonders if he's the only dad in this town who picks his daughter up from dance class.

He looks to the dance floor where Jesse, the instructor in a black leotard, is standing in front of seven little girls, all wearing pink tights, pink dance slippers and pink leotards. He spots Molly immediately and he smiles a little when she turns her head and sees him there, a smile exploding across her face. There's a classical song playing from the stereo in the corner. Daryl's pretty sure it's Chopin and the only reason he knows that is because Beth sometimes plays Chopin when she's in the kitchen.

"Alright, girls. Let's practice our positions five more times before class ends for the day. Line up, please!" Jesse says and the girls hurry, standing in two lines.

Molly stands in the back row, closest to the parents waiting area, and she smiles at Daryl again before Jesse claps her hands and the little girl snaps her head forward.

"Annnndddd, first position! Good! Second position! Straight arms, Heather! And third position! Molly, turn your foot a little bit more! Yes, just like that! And fourth position!"

Jesse calls them through their five positions, the girls moving their arms and feet, and Sam claps his hands together, gurgling in amusement. And as Daryl watches Molly, he smiles a little to himself because she looks so damn happy and seeing his kids happy, it makes him happy in return. He used to never understand why Rick would smile just from watching Carl at one of the kid's Little League games, but now that he has kids of his own – something he still, some days, has a hard time of believing – it makes perfect sense to him.

He has a lingering thought, wondering if Molly will really grow up to be a ballerina and the thought almost makes him snort. Imagine that. A Dixon, living in some big city, dancing on a stage that doesn't have a pole.

Class ends and the girls go scampering off to their mothers and Molly hurries up to him.

"Daddy, did you see?" She asks excitedly.

"I did," Daryl gives her a nod. "Don't think I'd be able to bend my legs like that."

Molly giggles at the mental image that gives her. "Where's mama?" She asks as she tugs on her zipped hooded sweatshirt because while it's April and spring is here, it is still brisk.

The hoodie is pink, too, so she is literally dressed in nothing but pink and to Molly, that's perfect because pink is her favorite color. She's even gotten Daryl to buy her hot pink bolts for when they go hunting together on the weekends.

"She's stuck at the shop and we're gonna get her somethin' for dinner," Daryl says as she swings her pink backpack on.

Sasha, Beth's best friend, is able to pick Molly up from school on Fridays and take her to her dance class before she goes to her shift at the diner and it's just another example of Daryl not knowing what they would do if they didn't have people – friends – more than willing to help them out with the kids.

He and Beth would be a lot more stretched, that's for sure.

Molly waves goodbye to Jesse and the other girls and she walks out with Daryl back to the car, still in her pink ballet slippers, skipping happily and occasionally doing a quick turn. Daryl buckles Sam into his car seat and then helps Molly buckle herself into her booster seat in the back seat as well.

"You got a taste for anythin' special?" Daryl asks as he pulls the car down the street.

"Chicken strips!" Molly exclaims.

And that's not surprising to Daryl because Molly loves chicken strips as much as she loves all things pink.

They go to the Tree Top Café in the middle of town – the café owned by T-Dog and the café where Beth first worked when she moved to Evergreen and Daryl got his first real good look at her. He has admitted to her since then that she scared the shit out of him. He had never seen anything as pretty in this world before Beth Greene came up to his table, asking him what he wanted for dinner that night.

Collecting the kids from the backseat once more, they then head inside.

"Hey, guys," Sasha greets them with a smile from behind the counter. "Be right with you." And then she's off, carrying a tray loaded down with food over to a table of truck drivers.

Daryl goes to the counter and sits Sam down, the baby now gnawing on the ear of his stuffed elephant, and Daryl picks up one of the laminated menus even though he's had it memorized for years now. The diner is crowded with the dinner crowd – talking and silverware clinking against plates ringing out around him. And he can see T-Dog in the kitchen, singing along to Stevie Wonder as he usually does. If it's not Stevie, it's Marvin Gaye. And that will change when Martinez comes to take over in about another hour, switching the radio in the kitchen to a station that plays all '80s, all the time.

"Hey, guys," Sasha says again, coming back to the counter, sounding a little out of breath. She rubs a finger affectionately on one of Sam's chubby cheeks and the baby gives her a drool-filled smile. "What can I get you? One order of chicken strips?" She guesses, looking down to Molly with a smile.

"Yep!" Molly bounces on her toes with excitement.

"Make it two. And le's get Beth… the egg sandwich on the English muffins with bacon."

He knows that when Beth is working late like this, she gets a craving for greasy breakfast food and the breakfast sandwiches T makes should be a staple of any diet, she has said on more than one occasion.

"And what about this little guy?" Sasha asks, scratching Sam's back.

"He's got his bananas and puffs," Daryl answers. "But maybe a lil' thing of applesauce?"

Sasha lets out a laugh. "Anything for one of the Dixons."

And Daryl can't help but smirk at that as Sasha turns away to put their order in. Like Axel, Sasha had had her reservations about Beth being with a Dixon. After all, there was Merle Dixon and their father, Will, and all of the other Dixons who came before them and none of them were certainly something the town bragged about. But Beth loved Daryl and Beth loved Sasha and she all but forced them to spend time together until they found common ground with one another. And now, Daryl considers her a friend and she does the same and his kids consider Sasha "aunt".

Hearing applause, Daryl turns his head to see that Molly has gone to one of the tables – Tyreese and Karen sitting there, watching her with smiles – and she is performing her five ballet positions for them. And once she's done, they clap – as do a few of the surrounding tables – and she giggles and dips into a curtsey. She then hurries back to Daryl's side, beaming up at him, and he smiles in return, putting his hand on her head and keeping her close.

Once their food order is up, and after seeing to the bill, Daryl swings Sam back up into one arm and carries the brown paper bag of food in his other and he leads Molly out, having her walk in front of him, smiling a little as she continues her turns and other dance moves he doesn't think are part of her ballet class.

He thought it when she was born and he still thinks it. Molly's the best thing he's ever done.

When Beth told him that she was pregnant, he was terrified – naturally – but he wasn't going to be like the other men who came before him with the same last name. He stepped up. That was his kid and he was in love with Beth. He had never imagined himself having a baby, but if he was to ever have one, it would be with her.

He had had no idea what he was doing, but when Molly was born and he held her for the first time, he knew that he'd do anything in this world that he had to do to give his girl the best life possible. Her last name may be Dixon, but he'd be damned if their childhoods had anything else in common besides that.

And already, just at six, Molly's happy and healthy and people never give her looks filled with pity, or quickly look anywhere but her when they see her coming, and she's always smiling and giggling because she thinks this world is the best place to be.

When Beth opened her bakery, just before she became pregnant with Molly, she baked a little bit of everything but soon, she found a niche. Some rich kids from Charlotte had been driving through town and stopped at Beth's bakery, where they got slices of her chocolate cake with chocolate buttercream frosting. They immediately fell in love with it and soon, Beth found herself getting orders from Charlotte to ship whole cakes up there.

And now, she bakes cakes for any occasion – not just rich kids in Charlotte – and baking cakes is really all she does; all she has time for now. She bakes birthday cakes and wedding cakes, anniversary cakes and baby shower cakes and had even had an order for a divorce celebration cake. And she still bakes cakes for T-Dog to sell at the diner.

Daryl's life with Beth usually always smells like chocolate and buttercream frosting.

He pulls the car up to the curb in front of the bakery, parking behind Beth's car. The lights inside are off but he can see the light on in the kitchen in the back. The sign is flipped to 'closed' and the door is locked. Good. Sometimes, she forgets to lock it when she's working late and it drives him crazy. He doesn't care how small Evergreen is. People can't be too careful no matter where they are.

Molly rapidly knocks on the glass door. "Mama!" She calls out loudly.

And a moment later, Beth appears from the kitchen, smiling the instant she seems them on the other side of the door and she crosses the small bakery floor to turn the lock and let them in. Her blond hair is falling from her ponytail and she has powdered sugar on her chin. Molly bounces inside and right into Beth, hugging her, and Beth wraps her arms tightly around her, kissing the top of her head.

"What are you guys doing here?" Beth asks, smiling, lifting her eyes to Daryl.

"Brought you dinner," he says, holding up the brown bag, and he expects her to tell him that he didn't have to do that but instead, she just lets out a breath and smiles as if she's relieved that he ignored her earlier when she told him not to worry about her.

"I'm starving," she says and he smiles a little.

She takes Sam from his arms into hers and she hugs the baby close, Sam happily nestling close to her. They go into the kitchen, Daryl the one to lock the front door behind them, and there is a table set up in the corner for moments just like this. They try to eat dinner every night as a family though sometimes, life gets in the way that just makes that nearly impossible, but they still try.

"Those look real pretty," Daryl comments on the rows of chocolate raspberry mini cakes with a fresh raspberry on each one on the island table in the middle of the kitchen as Beth unpacks the food from the bag. "How many more you got to go?"

"Two dozen," she says and she sounds tired now as if just thinking about it makes her so.

They sit down at the table and Daryl sits Sam down in his lap, feeding him puffs and spoons of applesauce while also feeding himself chicken strips and French fries. He looks at Beth, sitting beside him, biting into her egg sandwich and closing her eyes as she chews, as if she has never tasted anything more delicious than that.

"Let me show you, mama!" Molly declares after telling her about class and even though she has more chicken strips and French fries to eat, she hops out of her seat and situates herself in front of them both. And when she's done performing her five ballet positions for them, they clap for her and she beams proudly.

"I am so excited for your recital next month," Beth says as Molly sits down again.

"Me, too," Molly's head bobs up and down quickly. "Are you excited, daddy?" She asks.

"Course I am," Daryl answers without missing a beat.

Once she's done with her egg sandwich, Beth takes Sam into her lap and feeds him the rest of his applesauce and Daryl can focus on finishing his own dinner. And when Molly's done, she leaves her chair again to practice her five positions once again and to dance around the kitchen. Beth rubs Sam's tummy and wipes at his chin with his bib and she looks at Daryl.

"Thank you for worrying about me," she says with a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth and her eyes seem to be shining at him.

And Daryl just shrugs. "It's what I do."

Beth's smile grows at that and she leans in to kiss his cheek. But Daryl decides he'd rather have an actual kiss so he turns his head just in time to catch her lips with his.

…

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 **Thank you very much for reading and please take a moment to review!**


	6. Fire in the Blood

…

It doesn't happen often but sometimes, Beth does wake up before Daryl and this morning, when it happens, it's because she's shivering. She rolls herself into a ball and snuggles closer to Daryl but it doesn't matter. Her brain is wide awake now and all she can think of is how cold she is. With a soft sigh, she pushes the piles of blankets off of her and moving quietly and slowly so not to disturb Daryl, she crawls over to the front of the tent. She drags the zipper back and peeks out the flap.

Darn it. She knew it. Frost. The first frost. Her least favorite time of year.

She sighs softly and pulls herself back fully into the tent once more, zipping the flap back up. The frost only means one thing. Yes, it means that winter is coming and they can't grow their garden anymore but what the frost _really_ means is she and Daryl will have to move into the gas station for the season.

It's not as if the station is bad. Everyone lives in the apartment on the second floor so they have the entire first floor to themselves, but after spending eight months of the year outside, just the two of them in their little tent in a corner of the yard, being cooped up inside with everyone else can be downright claustrophobic at times.

She looks to Daryl as he continues sleeping and she then looks to the small diamond ring he had gotten while out there on a run and had put on her finger a few weeks earlier. They still haven't told anyone, but everyone knows. They can all see the ring and even before it was there, Beth knows that she and Daryl were pretty much married already. She knows the others are waiting for an announcement of some sort, but they also seem to know that that just won't happen. She and Daryl aren't like that. They're together. They're married now. And that's that.

After he slipped the ring on and they went into the tent for the night, he had said that maybe he should build them their own little place. He could get the wood and build a little shed where their tent is so they could stay outside all year long and Beth hadn't known how serious he was at the time, but now, the frost has come and they have to move back inside and she loves her family, but she wants to be alone.

"You keep starin' at me like that, you're gonna burn holes in me, girl," Daryl speaks then, his voice gruffer than usual, still laced with sleep. His eyes then open and they land right on her and she sighs softly.

"Frost came," she informs him and can't help but feel a little miserable about it.

"Yeah. Figured with the way you were shiverin' against me all night." Daryl sits up then with a yawn and rubs his hands over his face. He leans in then and kisses her on the lips. "Stop poutin'," he then says with a little smirk.

"I'm not pouting," she frowns at him though she definitely is and they both know it.

He smirks again and leans in for another kiss. He then grabs his crossbow which rests on the other side of him as he sleeps and he crawls to the front flap, unzipping it and pulling himself outside. Beth sighs but follows him, wrapping her scarf tightly around her neck as she stands up.

It had been a quiet night. Most nights up here are quiet. Their little gas station seems to be pretty hidden within the mountains and the trees and both people and walkers seem to be completely unaware of their presence. That doesn't make them lazy though. They still have guard duty – one on the roof of the station and the other at the main gate at all times. They have foraged and scavenged and have gathered as much as they could to build themselves a fence all around them. And this time, there's a plan. There's a back gate and a mini-van parked right outside always kept with a full tank of gas so if they have to run suddenly, they can all run together. They've been here for over a year without incident but they're not stupid or naïve. There's no such thing as safe anymore.

Carl is on duty this morning at the front gate. They had all expected Rick to protest when Carl had volunteered to be put on the rotation but after the fall of the prison and everything afterwards, Rick finally admitted to himself that his son had to be able to protect himself and others in this new world and trying to shelter him wasn't a help to any of them.

The teenager sees them and waves to them as Daryl and Beth head up the front steps of the station and Daryl pulls the door open for her and Beth waves back.

On the first floor, the only thing that remains that shows it used to be a gas station is the long counter to the left, the cash register still sitting on top of it. When they first arrived, Beth and Daryl had made the spot of floor behind the counter as their own but since then, he and Tyreese have been able to get some actual furniture for the large floor space. A couch and a couple of armchairs from some house they found and it almost looks like an actual living room in some regular house. The couch is a pull-out and Beth knows that she and Daryl will be spending their winter, sleeping on it. She's spent so long sleeping on the ground, she wonders if she even remembers how to sleep on an actual bed anymore.

Beth heads up the stairs with Daryl right behind her and she pushes open the baby gate they have at the top.

"Bet!" Judith exclaims as soon as Beth steps into the hallway and the toddler comes scurrying to her.

"Good morning, Juju," Beth smiles as she bends down and hoists the little girl up into her arms. She kisses her on the cheek. "Did you sleep well?"

Judith eagerly nods her head and Beth smiles still, hugging her close.

Her nose then catches whiff of the air and she almost gasps. Carrying Judith, she follows the trail and her nose leads her right into the kitchen. Carol is there, making breakfast for everyone, and Maggie is in there, too, gathering bowls and spoons.

Maggie grins when she sees Beth enter. "Told you she'd smell it," she says to Carol who laughs as she continues stirring the pot of oatmeal at the stove.

"How can you _not_ smell it?" Beth asks, locating the pot on the stove burner and the delicious scent of coffee of brewing. Why was no one else in here? And how had she not smelled this the instant she stepped inside? Her nose must not be as trained to it as it once was. "Where did this even come from?"

"Glenn and Michonne found it on their run yesterday. I told them not to tell you. I wanted you to be surprised," Maggie says.

Beth walks to the small coffee pot as if in a trance, hardly blinking as if when she will, the whole thing will completely disappear. It doesn't matter that without cream or sugar, she will have to drink it black. It doesn't matter that once she drinks this cup, she will only crave more and she won't be able to have it again. All that matters is that she is about to get coffee and she is practically salivating for it. Maybe today isn't a terrible day after all.

She bends down and sets Judith on her feet and then her hands rest on either side of the coffee pot. "I love you so much," she says to it and Maggie and Carol both laugh again and Carol rubs a hand affectionately on Beth's back.

"Breakfast!" Maggie calls out then to the others. She sets two bowls aside for Carl and Sasha – who is on duty on the roof – to take breakfast out to and then begins handing the other bowls to Carol to fill them up for everyone else.

"Hey," Daryl enters, seeing Beth still staring at the coffee pot. "I talked with Rick and I'm gonna head out after breakfast. See if I can get us some meat for dinner. After I get back, you wanna start movin' in here?" He asks.

Beth doesn't seem to hear a word he says. The pot stops brewing and before she can even look for one, Carol is already handing a cup out to her. Beth practically bounces as she pulls out the small pot and pours herself a steaming serving.

When she takes her first sip, she almost falls and has to lean against the counter behind her for support. "I love you," she murmurs again.

Daryl frowns. "Who the hell you talkin' to?" He asks.

"Sorry, Pookie," Carol teases him as she hands them a bowl of oatmeal – their usual breakfast every other morning. "You've been replaced."

"Is that…" Rick steps into the kitchen and then stops short upon seeing Beth holding a mug between her hands, sipping at it. "I thought I was imagining it."

Carol hands him a cup and Beth steps out of the way so Rick can pour himself some and he has much the same reaction as Beth did as he takes his first sip. With his eyes closed, he looks as if he's never known such pleasure.

Daryl is still frowning as he sits down at the small round table in the center of the small room. "Jus' coffee," he says, not getting why anyone would lose their heads over it.

In a rare display of open affection, Beth settles herself down on his knee and Daryl slips an arm around her waist as he eats his oatmeal with his other hand. Beth doesn't point out to him just how wrong he is – that it's nowhere near _just coffee_ – and she keeps taking small sips, making it last as the others come into the kitchen, for breakfast and their own little cup off the delicious bit of heaven they have.

Past her euphoria, she focuses on Daryl. He's silent as always, eating his breakfast and the hand of his left arm wrapped around her, is tapping his fingers on her thigh. She pauses and pays close attention for a moment, trying to decide if there's any particular rhythm he's chosen, but she decides that it's just a random tapping.

She turns her head to look at him. "Are you alright?" She asks him in a hush as everyone else talks around them and doesn't hear.

He nods. "Yeah," he answers before shoveling more oatmeal into his mouth, but she doesn't believe him and she looks at him closely. He feels her eyes and turns his head to look at her. "Just hopin' I can find a rabbit or somethin'." He then looks down to his bowl and shovels another spoonful of oatmeal into his mouth.

"I don't really love coffee more than you," she says as a way to distract him – he worries too much about everything – and he smirks a little, turning his head and looking at her with an arched eyebrow. "If anything, you two are tied."

He smirks again and gives a nod as if he's always been well aware of that. Beth leans a bit closer into him and Daryl's arm tightens around her waist and she sips her coffee and thinks that maybe today isn't _too_ terrible.

…

* * *

 **Thank you very much for reading and please take a moment to review!**


	7. Cornerstone II

...

It wasn't as if he was jealous. Well, maybe a little jealous but he would never admit that out loud to anyone. Especially to Daryl. Daryl had been his best friend, his _brother_ , since they were kids and besides, it was just a little crush and didn't mean anything. Absolutely no one had to ever know about it.

Still though, Daryl was the most observant guy he had ever met – if the guy was a detective, he'd be the best on the force – and sometimes, he could hardly meet Daryl's eyes because he was just so sure that Daryl could take one look at him and just _know_ what sometimes went on through his head. But he figured that if Daryl did know or even suspected something, he would kindly punch him in the eye and tell him to stop coming around.

But since neither of those things ever happened, he thought that maybe his secret was safe.

Rick tried to think of reasons as to why he had a crush on Beth Dixon though he supposed it was all rather obvious. Beth was the kindest, sweetest person who always had a warm smile for anyone who crossed her path. She was almost painfully shy, but once she was comfortable around a person and able to open up, they were gifted with laughs and silly jokes and sweet songs. She lived with Daryl in their little trailer in the woods and made it warm and inviting and always opened the door to any visitor they received. And most of all, she was absolutely and head over heels in love with her husband.

He knew that that's where the jealousy came from. He had once thought he had all of that. He thought he had a good marriage and a happy life and a wife who loved him. But everything fell apart and Rick still wasn't too sure when the hell it had all happened. He and Lori tried to stay together because of Carl and Judith but he had his room and she had her room and they seemed to only come together for school events or one of Carl's soccer games. It wasn't a marriage anymore. It wasn't much of anything anymore and each day, Rick would wonder why the hell he didn't file the papers already. He was pretty sure he wasn't in love with her anymore and Lori sure as hell didn't love him anymore. And growing up in a miserable house wouldn't do his two kids any favors later down the road.

He was already imagining the therapy bills.

Rick would go to Dale's garage to see if Daryl wanted to grab some lunch at least two times a week. Beth worked in the office and she beamed every time she saw Rick step through the door as if it had been months since their last meeting.

Beth was young and pretty and the goodness of her on the inside just shone to the outside. Rick would wager she was the prettiest girl in their town though she would definitely argue that if he was ever to say that to her. She had definitely changed in her relationship with Daryl and had gotten better and stronger – and healthier as well – but she still had much doubt in herself and he supposed with everything she had already been through in her life, that was only natural.

Sometimes, she would come with them but other times, she would stay behind and eat the lunch she packed from home and smile teasingly at them both, telling them to enjoy their boy time. And Daryl would smirk a little and lean in and kiss her forehead and Rick would watch as Beth closed her eyes every single time with the most serene smile across her lips. And Rick would feel a hot spike in his stomach as he watched them because he didn't know if Lori had _ever_ looked like that when he kissed her even before she cheated on him.

They usually went to Rhee's Pizza for a slice or down the street to the diner for burgers and every time, it was the same. Daryl would ask how it was going and Rick would just sigh. What the hell could he say? His marriage was over and he and Lori both knew it and he had no idea what to do next.

Daryl did his best to offer advice though he had never been comfortable giving it and was never too sure what to say about the situation. Before Beth, Daryl hadn't had much experience with women or relationships and now, with Beth, he still didn't have that much advice to give. After all, he was happily married and in love with his wife who loved him in return and this was the best his life had ever been. And Rick couldn't think of a guy who deserved this happiness more.

Rick didn't know why this was so hard for him. He knew what he had to do and yet, he couldn't make himself do it. Maybe because when he married Lori, he expected to be married to her for the rest of his life.

He sometimes stopped at the trailer where Daryl and Beth lived early on Saturday mornings after his night shift and he and Daryl would have cups of coffee and Beth would wake up and make them all breakfast though both Daryl and Rick told her that she didn't have to. She just always smiled and brushed them off and made them all plates heaping with scrambled eggs and bacon anyway.

They would sit at the small table, Rick on one side and Daryl and Beth sitting together on the other side and Rick couldn't help but look at Beth as they ate – though he made damn sure he wasn't obvious about it. She usually wore one of Daryl's flannel shirts to bed to sleep in but whenever he came over for coffee, she would pull on a pair of pajama pants and no matter how warm it was outside, she would usually pull on a zipped hooded sweatshirt, too. Beth was always cold and she liked to tease Daryl that that was the only reason she married him. She swore he ran a couple degrees warmer than most and he was her own personal furnace. And Daryl smirked whenever she said this and would wrap his arms around her and bring her in close to him.

And maybe that's why he was jealous of Daryl and had a little crush on Beth. Rick missed all of that. The teasing and affection and the level of ease between two people who were completely comfortable around one another. Maybe he missed having a woman who looked at him like he had just plucked a star down from the sky just for her. Maybe he missed having a woman who kissed him and held him close and couldn't imagine living her life if he wasn't living it with her.

After they were done eating, Daryl always told Beth he'd wash the dishes and she'd smile and kiss him on the cheek and told them she was going to take a quick shower. Daryl and Rick would head outside and Daryl would light a cigarette, never smoking in the trailer.

This morning, it was cool and damp and smelled like more rain was going to be falling soon. The woods where they lived were quiet. Just chirps of birds and the wind rustling the trees.

Rick let out a sigh. "Better get home."

And he sounded reluctant even though his kids were there and he still loved those kids more than life. He may not love their mother anymore but that had nothing to do with Carl and Judith. He may have failed as a husband but he'd be damned if he failed as a father, too.

"Thanks for breakfast," he said, looking back to Daryl.

"Any time," Daryl gave him a head nod. "Rosita's comin' this afternoon for a visit. Maybe the four of us could go out to eat or somethin'," he then suggested.

Rick nodded his own head. "Yeah, that'd be nice."

"What do you think of Rosita?" Daryl asked.

Rick looked at him with a raised eyebrow and studied him for a moment. Was Daryl actually making an attempt at matchmaking? That seemed unlikely. This had to be Beth.

Still, he paused and thought of the question. Rosita was Beth's best friend and her complete opposite. She was loud and energetic and was the sort who loved having attention on her. She had scars from where she had cut herself over the years but she never shied away when she saw people notice them. The scars were a part of who she was. Beth had her own scar, deep and long on the inside of her wrist, that was always covered with bracelets. That scar was a part of Beth, too, but she wasn't as open as Rosita. Rosita seemed as if she was a girl who had no secrets. She was very much an open book.

And Rick had to admire that because for so long, he had had too many secrets in his life.

"I don't really know her, but I'd like to go out to eat with her and change that," Rick decided and that made Daryl's lips twitch a little before he took another drag of his cigarette.

"Good," Daryl nodded. "Anythin' to get you to stop starin' after my wife."

Rick's eyes widened at that and his mouth fell open. He tried to think of what to say. He had to say something to Daryl. He had to apologize and wanted to ask how Daryl knew of his stupid pointless crush but his mouth fell open and he wasn't able to make a sound.

And Daryl let out a short laugh. An actual laugh and he shook his head again.

"I don't blame you," was all he said before he dropped his cigarette to the ground and stomped it out completely with his boot. "See you later for dinner," he then said before turning and heading back inside, the door closing behind him.

Rick stood there for another minute before he was able to shake his head at him and finally move towards his car. He felt another spike of jealousy. Daryl was so confident and sure of his wife's love and loyalty for him, he wasn't threatened when another guy looked at her. Rick knew it was time he found a woman he could believe in that much for himself since Beth Dixon was obviously very much off the market. Hell, even before she was Daryl's wife, she was never really on the market. Rick knew the first time Daryl looked at Beth, that was it. She was his as much as he was hers.

Rick sighed, sliding behind the wheel of his car. He really missed belonging to someone. He looked at himself in the rearview mirror and he scratched at his cheek. He wondered if Rosita would like the beard or if he should shave.

…

* * *

 **Thank you very much for reading and please leave a review!**


	8. Fight to Win - Blue Mountains

…

"And you sure we gotta go?"

"Daryl!" Beth exclaimed from the bathroom because this was the fifth time he had asked that – just this morning – and her answer hadn't changed yet, if that was what he was waiting for.

"Jus' seems like a big ol' waste of a day," Daryl grumbled and stood up from the bed where he and Olive were playing a game together of Sneaky Snacky Squirrel.

He crossed the room and leaned in the doorway of the small bathroom, watching Beth as she stood at the sink, carefully applying a light dusting of makeup across her face. He and his family built a house for them in Clay County, Kentucky – in Appalachia – where the rest of Daryl's family was and they spent at least three weeks throughout the year here. Their home away from their home. They knew their life was in Georgia, but they both knew that if everything lined up in their life, they would move here in an instant. Daryl wanted their daughter to grow up in the mountains; the chance he never got to have.

"You know they ain't gonna be makin' it even six months," he said with his arms crossed over his chest. "You look real pretty, by the way."

And Beth smiled at that as she carefully applied her eyeliner. "Thank you. And please don't say that to anyone today. As far as we're concerned, this is the best wedding ever and it will be one of the strongest marriages ever shared between two people."

Daryl smirked a little at that. "So you want me lyin'?"

"Not lie, per se." She lowered the eye pencil and turned her head to look at him. "Just don't talk. People expect you to be a mute anyway." Daryl was quiet for a moment, thinking that over, and his smirk slid into a frown as he thought things over, and Beth, seeing the thoughts clouding his mind, stepped up to him and slipped her arms around his waist. "She's happy and you're her favorite cousin and she will be devastated if you're not there," she told him.

"Yeah, I know," he mumbled softly. "Never said I wasn' gonna go. She's jus' eighteen, though. What the hell is she thinkin'? She got her whole life to go and get married," he said and then watched Beth closely as if Beth was privy to knowledge that he wasn't. "Clementine and Bill have lost their damn minds, lettin' her do this."

"You just said so yourself. Annie's eighteen. An adult. She has fallen in love and if she wants to get married, we are going to show up and support her because that's what family does for each other."

Daryl stared at her and didn't say anything to that because Beth was right; as she usually was when it came to things like this.

"I'll tell you wha'," Daryl said after another moment of thinking it over. "Olive ain't gettin' married."

"At all?" Beth asked with an arched eyebrow. She gave him a soft kiss on the cheek and then went to stand back at the sink, in front of the mirror, beginning to use her mascara.

"Hell. No." His answer was emphatic and Beth knew that Daryl didn't give a shit that their daughter was only three, almost four, years-old. "Hey, flower girl."

Both Daryl and Beth turned their heads as Olive giggled as she slid from the bed. Ever since Annie asked if Olive could be her flower girl for the wedding, Olive wanted to constantly be called flower girl. One of Daryl's cousins, Jenny, had made the dress Olive would wear today – pink and white and poufy and Olive loved it and she looked absolutely adorable – and Beth had already gotten her dressed. Beth had a feeling that her daughter would probably want to wear the dress every day from now on. She also wore a wreath of white and pink flowers on top of her head. Her hair – brown like Daryl's and wavy like Beth's – was worn down.

The color of the wedding that day was pink and Beth was also wearing a pink dress and though she had joked with Daryl about wearing a pink tie, his tie was black – not that she expected anything differently.

Daryl crouched down in front of Olive. "You gonna get married someday?" He asked.

"Nope!" Olive exclaimed with a wide smile, practically bouncing on her toes as excitement bubbled up in her.

"What are you gonna do instead?" Daryl asked.

"Pick blueberries!" Olive answered, still exclaiming with excitement.

"'s right," Daryl was trying not to burst into a smile, but Beth laughed softly as she brushed her cheeks with blush, listening to the conversation between father and daughter; not the first time they had had this particular conversation. "And why ain't you gonna get married?" He asked his final question.

"Cause boys are dumber than coal buckets!"

"Thatta girl," Daryl smiled now and he kissed her forehead before standing up and Beth laughed.

Beth looked at Daryl and smiled and gave a smile down to Olive before looking to Daryl again. "I think it would be best if neither of you talked today."

...

* * *

 **Just something short. I hope you liked it! Thank you for reading and please take a moment to review!**


	9. House Call II

...

 ** _Make your mark…_**

Daryl leaned in the doorway, watching her as Beth leaned into the sink, staring at her reflection in the bathroom mirror as she applied the makeup to her neck.

"'m sorry," he said, nearly mumbling the apology because he was embarrassed and regretful, his eyes dropping down to the floor and his arms crossing over his chest.

"It's fine, Daryl. I mean it," Beth said, giving him a smile that he didn't see because he was still looking down to the floor. "Hey," she said softly, turning towards him and taking a step forward. Daryl finally lifted his eyes to her. "I like it," she said softly, still with a smile.

Daryl slowly lifted his hand and his thumb touched the side of her neck gently. "Guess I kind of got out of hand," he said.

"I like it," Beth said again before pushing herself up on her toes and giving him a kiss.

Last night, when Beth had come over, she had said some of the best words Daryl could remember ever hearing before. He wasn't sure exactly what happened or how the topic came around, but apparently her parents had told Beth that she was twenty-one years old and she didn't need a curfew or to ask their permission with many things anymore. She was an adult and as long as she checked in with them just so they knew she was safe, there was no need for a self-imposed curfew.

Beth had come to Daryl's house in the woods the night before to tell him and she was so happy because the one thing she had hated with their months keeping this a secret was lying to her parents all of the time. Now, all along, it seemed as if she hadn't had to because to her parents, she was an adult and they trusted her. There was still that pang of guilt in the pit of her stomach over just not _telling_ them about her and Daryl, but for now, this was good. So, so good. And judging by how Daryl had reacted to the news when she told him, he was in complete agreement.

He had never quite been like that before. Eager and overly so. Beth felt as if she had hardly been able to catch her breath the entire night. Daryl was a million hands and a million lips and it had been overwhelming and wonderful and she never wanted the sun to come up because now, it was just as predicted. In the light of day, Daryl was embarrassed for how he had been the night before. He thought there was anything he had to apologize for.

No, the hickey on the side of her neck wasn't ideal. They were always so careful about not leaving visible marks on any part of their bodies where other people would be able to see, but Beth honestly didn't mind. How could she? Daryl had been so passionate and loving the night before, whispering dirty things in her ear that still made her stomach clench when she thought about now in the early light of the morning.

Beth kissed him now and Daryl's hands dropped, his fingers curling around her hips, his mouth slowly moving against hers. Beth's eyes closed and she leaned into him because when Daryl kissed her like this, she didn't trust her legs to support her. He so rarely kissed her like this – as if she was the very oxygen he needed to keep his lungs filled. Even though this had been happening for months between them, most of the time, he was always so careful and reserved; as if there was always going to a part of him that he would never turn over to her; a part that kept her from having him entirely.

But then, other times, he would kiss her as if there wasn't anything else he'd rather be doing. And when he was passionate, when he kissed her like this, when he didn't seem to want to let her go, that was why Beth kept coming up here to see him in their own secret world; because when he acted like this, she knew – just knew – that Daryl loved her.

His lips slid away from her and began moving downward, Beth couldn't help but giggle.

"I only brought so much makeup with me," she teased him softly and she felt his lips curve into a little smile against the line of her jaw.

And knowing he was smiling, she smiled, too, and giggled again.

He pulled his head back and his eyes fell into hers and whenever Daryl looked at her, Beth always had a hard time looking anywhere else. His hand lifted to her face and her eyes drifted closed as his thumb brushed back and forth across her cheek; his touch as light as a teasing spring breeze blowing. He leaned into her and her eyes fluttered open as she felt his forehead come to rest against hers and suddenly, all she wanted to do was call Lori and tell her that she was too sick to come into work that day so she could stay up here, in the woods, in his home, with Daryl all day.

Beth wouldn't do that, of course, because she knew Daryl would never take a sick day.

She could only hope that when she saw him again, he would be just as affectionate as he was being right now. This was something that she had been hoping for and something she knew she could more than happily get used to.

"What are you gonna tell any of 'em if they notice?" He asked and his thumb was lightly brushing across the hickey on her neck, hidden beneath a layer of foundation makeup.

"I burned myself with the curling iron," she replied with a shrug.

Daryl lifted his brow at that and his fingers brushed a lock of her hair back, his fingers skimming across her shoulder as he did and it nearly made her shiver. "Hair ain't curled this mornin'," he pointed out to her.

Beth wasn't sure why, but that little fact pointed out to her began to make her laugh. Softly at first and she couldn't stop and she felt free and happy that morning and she never wanted these feelings to end. And as she laughed, Daryl watched her and smiled that little smile of his.

His forehead went back to hers. "Come back tonight," he said in a low, quiet voice.

"I'll bring a curling iron with me, too. Just in case," Beth then added and as she watched the tips of his ears turn red, she smiled and kissed him again. His fingers curled around her hips again and pulled her in, tight and close to him, and not for the first time, Beth hated the sun for rising that morning.

...


	10. Waiting on You II

**The update no one asked for, but this universe is one of my favorites to imagine and write.**

* * *

...

Daryl has always been a light sleeper, but since having kids, he swears that he can hear when one of them rolls over in their sleep and the mattress springs of their bed gives out the quietest of screeches beneath them or when a stuffed animal falls from their arm onto the floor with a muted thump on the carpet.

So on Christmas morning, he is awake the instant he hears the bedroom door push open and a hushed whisper from Molly, telling Sam to be quiet. Beth moves a little from beside him, equipped with her own parent hearing, her body waking itself up and becoming aware that their two children are awake and about to pounce onto the bed.

And sure enough, within a few seconds, Daryl hears the creak of the wooden bed frame and the screech of springs and the dip of the mattress when one – and then two – little bodies climb onto the bed, at his and Beth's feet.

"Daddy." Molly goes to him first, crawling up the bed and finding his arm, shaking it.

He grunts a little and he wonders what time it is because it feels like he and Beth have _just_ gone to bed after putting all of the presents out under the tree and eating the sugar cookies and drinking the glass of whiskey the kids left out for Santa on the coffee table. Daryl had taught Molly when she was a couple years younger that Santa got glasses of milk all night long and the whiskey would help keep the man warm.

"Daddy," Molly shakes his arm again and Daryl finally cracks his eyes open.

"Go back to bed," he grunts at his daughter.

"Daddy!" Sam then exclaims, slapping his hand on Daryl's chest. "Santa!"

"Why don't you kids ever bug your ma, huh?" He asks them and he can hear Beth laugh softly, still mostly asleep beside him.

Daryl pushes himself up on his elbows and looks at his and Beth's two kids in the pre-dawn grayness of the bedroom. Every year at Christmastime, Beth buys the kids matching pajamas. This year, Molly's long-johns are pink – of course since pink is Molly's favorite color – with reindeer on them and Sam's are the same, except green.

Beth always jokes that she's making him a little Dixon army and maybe she is because their kids look just like him with their dark brown hair and watery blue eyes that sometimes even look to be a shade of green in the right light and they have that Dixon smirk down so well, Daryl thinks sometimes he is looking into a mirror whenever one of them does it in front of him.

They look at him now with eagerness shining in their eyes that he can see even in the dimness of the bedroom.

Christmas has always been important to Beth and she is raising their kids to have enthusiasm for the holiday as well. The day after Thanksgiving, Beth sends Daryl outside to string colorful strands of lights through their front bushes and she hangs a wreath on their front door of their little house and then the day after that, they go and cut down their Christmas tree from a nearby tree farm. Beth makes them hot cocoa with milk and after Daryl lugs the tree in and Beth helps him get it in the tree stand, making sure it's front and center and straight in their living room window, they spend the rest of the day decorating with ornaments and popcorn strings while listening to Bing Crosby music.

The whole thing is like its own Christmas song and Daryl has never had anything like it before and he knows that he has it all because of Beth. And because she loves Christmas so much, Daryl begrudgingly finds himself liking it a bit, too. He tells himself that he only likes it because of his kids. He wants them to have nothing but good memories of their childhoods and Christmas is something kids always remember. They may have the last name, but Daryl does everything to ensure their life as Dixon kids is the complete opposite of what his was like, growing up.

"Santa, daddy!" Sam smacks his chest again with as much impatience as a two-year-old can have and Daryl pretends to grunt as if in pain.

"Alright," Beth is the one to speak and she sits up. "Let's go downstairs and see what Santa has brought you." She swings her legs around the side of the bed and stands up, looking back at them.

"Yay!" Molly exclaims, following after Beth and jumping down from the bed with a heavy thud onto the floor.

But before Sam can follow after his older sister, Daryl is quick to sit up and grab the toddler before he jumps down from the bed as well and probably seriously hurts himself.

Sam lets out a peel of laughter as Daryl stands up with him in his arms, tickling his sides, and Daryl smiles a little as he follows Beth from the bedroom, Molly tearing out in front of them, running down the stairs so fast, she almost trips over her own feet.

"Careful, Molly," Beth calls out a warning though both she and Daryl know that today, there will be no stopping her from getting to that tree as quickly as possible.

Between Beth's bakery and Daryl's garage, they do well for themselves. They have their own little house and two cars and two kids and they are able to have a comfortable life. Each month, Beth sets a little bit of money aside specifically for the month of December. It's the reason why when they come down the stairs, beneath the tree, it is overflowing with brightly wrapped packages of all sizes.

The night before, Daryl had helped Beth carry all of the presents in from the garage where she always hides them in the small storage loft and she had smiled, laughing a little, after their fifth trip.

"I know," she said even though he hadn't said anything. "It's a lot."

Daryl had just shrugged. "Maybe, but they deserve 'em," he said and Beth smiled, setting the boxes in her arms down on the floor and then went to him, standing on her toes and slipping her arms around his shoulders. Daryl's hands immediately found home on her hips, holding her tight and close against him.

"There's some under the tree for you, too," she told him with a faint smile.

Daryl's response was to smirk. "Jus' ask Sasha or Axel and Oscar to babysit for a few hours and that's all I wan'," he said and Beth laughed softly before his lips dropped down to hers even though she knew he was completely serious.

"Mama, look!" Molly exclaims. Between the empty plate of cookies and empty glass of whisky on the coffee table and the mountain of presents spilling out around their tree, it is very obvious that Santa Claus paid their house a visit the night before.

Sam begins wiggling in Daryl's arms, desperate to be put down, and once Daryl bends down and returns him to his feet, Sam takes off running to join his sister on the floor, their eyes wide as they look over the presents.

"Hold on, wait!" Beth quickly rushes to get the camera.

She's a bit old fashioned, she knows, and can easily take pictures on her phone, but she has an old 35mm camera she had gotten at a thrift store months earlier and she has fallen in love with snapping pictures of every event happening in her family's life and taking the pictures to the drugstore for development.

"Smile!" Beth then beams, holding the camera up to her face. Molly beams and wraps her arms around Sam, pulling him towards her and little boy falls against her chest, and Beth laughs as she snaps the picture, loving the sound of that click.

She then looks at Daryl. "Smile, daddy," Beth teases and Daryl's lips quirk upwards a little and stay like that even after the click.

"Can we start?" Molly asks, her anxiousness growing with each passing second.

"Go on," Beth nods.

Immediately, there is ripping of paper and gasps and exclamations of joy and Daryl is down on the floor with them, helping Sam with his boxes, coming across boxes with Daryl's or Beth's name on the label and he sets those aside, and Beth goes to the record player in the corner of the room, putting on a record of Christmas music to play.

"Daddy, look!" Molly is practically shouting as she unwraps her next present and Daryl lifts his eyes from the box containing Sam's newest dump truck to add to the little boy's growing collection of dump trucks up in his bedroom, and when he sees what has Molly so excited, he smiles. "Mommy, I got her!" Molly then springs to her feet and rushes to where Beth is sitting on the edge of the couch.

Beth laughs and takes the box from her. "Let's see her."

Molly hands Beth the box and is practically bouncing on her toes as Beth carefully unties the ribbon around the box and then lifts the lid. And once she does, Molly gasps.

"She's perfect," Molly whispers.

Carefully, Beth lifts the American Girl doll from the box and Molly takes her tenderly.

"Is Samantha the one you wanted?" Beth asks even though Molly has talked about the Samantha doll and nearly nothing else ever since November.

They had driven across the state to spend Thanksgiving with Beth's sister, Maggie, Maggie's husband, Glenn, and their little boy, Henry, and Maggie had gotten an American Girl Doll magazine in the mail. "I have no idea why," Maggie said and gave it to Molly to look through. And when Molly laid her eyes on the Samantha doll, that was it. She wanted absolutely nothing else except an American Girl doll and the books and clothes and accessories.

And Beth had taken the magazine for safe keeping and research for later. She knows how expensive the dolls are, but Molly is old enough at seven for one, Beth feels, and Beth doesn't doubt that her daughter will take care of her.

"She's exactly the one I wanted!" Molly exclaims, holding her new doll close.

"Picture," Beth says and for some reason, she feels tears beginning to well in her eyes as Molly stands, holding Samantha tightly in her arms, beaming wildly, and Beth snaps the picture. She has barely brought the camera down before Molly throws herself at her, hugging her tightly. Beth hugs her tightly in return and kisses her head. "Merry Christmas, baby," she says into Molly's dark hair.

She keeps her eyes closed tightly so she doesn't start crying and hugs Molly for another moment. Molly is so happy, Beth can feel it practically vibrating off of her as if she has been electrocuted and Beth hopes that she is always able remember this; how happy her little girl is right at this moment.

The two pull apart when they feel Daryl sit down on the couch next to Beth.

"Le's get a look at her," Daryl says with a little smile.

Molly bounces to him and holds out for Daryl to see. "I hope Santa bought me the ballet costume for her. I wonder if Ms. Jesse will mind if I bring Samantha to ballet class with me. Do you think she would mind?"

"Maybe," Daryl says after taking a moment as if truly pondering it. "Samantha would be a beginner, but you ain't in beginner's class anymore."

"I could teach Samantha everything I know," Molly then thinks out loud.

"Of course you can," Beth smiles and Molly nearly skips back towards the tree with Samantha in the crook of her arm to open more presents.

Beth looks towards Sam and then looks to Daryl, telling him something silently, and he nods, pulling himself back to his feet.

"I'll be right back," he says and then heads towards the laundry room, to the door that leads out into the garage.

Beth slides down from the couch and crawls back to the tree where Sam is sitting, playing with his new fire truck. Their little boy is obsessed with vehicles. Dump trucks, cars, fire trucks, cement mixers, tow trucks. Sam absolutely loves garbage trucks and every Monday, garbage day, he presses his face to the front window and watches the garbage truck come. This Christmas, he has gotten a quite a few new vehicles and a play mat with a tangle of roads printed onto it for him to drive all of them on. Daryl already has no doubt that Sam will be joining him in his auto garage someday.

Beth laughs as she snaps a few pictures of Sam's face, pure with absolute delight, as he plays with the few that Daryl has already taken out of the boxes for him.

"A'right," Daryl says, coming back into the room. "Molly got her big present so now it's Sam's turn," he says and both kids look to see what he has with him.

Molly gasps for her little brother when she sees what it is and Sam sits there, his mouth hanging open as he gets his first look at it. Beth, of course, makes sure she gets a picture.

Sam rolls over onto his knees and then pushes himself up with his hands. He then stands there and Beth puts her hands on his back and front so she is keeping him steady.

"What do you think, Sammy?" Beth asks him.

"Sam, it's awesome!" Molly exclaims, just as excited for her brother as she was for herself, and she walks around Daryl and the plastic forklift vehicle. "Can he actually pick stuff up with it?" She asks.

"You bet he can," Daryl says, crouching down next to the little vehicle. "Want to see?"

Sam seems to have overcome his shock because he nods and then hurries over and Beth takes another picture as Daryl helps Sam climb into the seat and Sam watches as Daryl turns a handle next to the steering wheel round and around that moves the lift on the front of the vehicle up and down.

And with his feet firm on the ground, Sam then begins to push himself forward, "driving" the forklift over the wrapping paper crumbled on the floor and around the furniture. He starts laughing then and he doesn't seem able to stop and Beth laughs as she takes pictures. He stops at one of the empty toy boxes on the floor and Sam squeals with delight as he turns the handle and is able to lift it up with the forklift.

"Daddy!" Sam exclaims.

"I see, buddy," Daryl smiles.

He was never a Christmas fan before Beth. Never had a reason to see this day as different from any other day in the year. But being married and being a dad, seeing the way Beth reacts to it and the way their kids love it and are just so damn happy with it, he can admit to himself that it's a good day. Actually, a pretty damn great day.

He then looks to Beth. "Kids these days," he jokes. "Never had cool toys like this when we were kids."

Beth laughs and she wipes at her cheeks, because just as Molly was, Sam is so happy with his toy and Beth is just so happy, watching him.

"I'm sorry," she then says, turning her head towards Daryl. "I think the most exciting thing I got you today are some new L.L. Bean flannel shirts."

Daryl smirks at that and his arm slides around her, bringing her in close to his side. "You've gone and ruined the surprise," he tells her and she laughs and brings the camera so it's facing them and she snaps their picture of Daryl actually smiling.

...

* * *

 **Nothing but fluff. Thank you very much for reading!**


	11. House Call III

…

 _ **Smear...**_

Even if he hadn't known it at the time, the truth was that he fell in love with her the second he saw her. Standing at the side of the road in a flowered dress and cowboy boots, he had changed her flat and could feel her standing there, watching him, and he had never smelled anything sweeter before in his life. She knew who he was. It was a small town and everyone knew who he was, but she didn't look afraid of him like most people did when they crossed paths with him. She smiled at him like she didn't mind at all to be around him and that confused the hell out of him. No one else shared the same opinion.

But he learned that Beth followed her heart and did what she felt was the right thing to do. She trusted completely in what her heart told her and everything happened for a reason and Daryl Dixon had never shared his wife's opinion on fate and destiny or any of that kind of shit, but he didn't doubt that he was always meant to meet Beth. He was forty years old the first time he saw her on that dirt road with a flat tire on her car and Daryl was pretty sure that that's when his life actually – finally – started.

And now, all these years together – three kids and basically building this house for her – that life might be all over.

He did his best to not think that way. He had to stay positive for Beth, because Beth was already terrified enough without him adding his own fears to the mix. He had to be what he always was for her. He had to be the anchor. Beth needed him to be that for her right now and he wanted to be that for her. He wanted to be anything for her that she needed. He had spent this half of his life, doing anything that he thought Beth might want or need because keeping her happy – keeping _her_ – was more important to him than anything.

He lived so much of his life without her, but now that he had her, he couldn't imagine living even one single day without her.

Hunter wanted dinner and Daryl knew that as his dad, it was Daryl's duty to feed their kids, but right now, Beth was trying her hardest not to cry and all Daryl wanted to do was keep holding on to her; keep his arms wrapped around her.

As selfish as it sounded, he just always assumed that because he was older, he would be the first to go and he would never had to deal with this.

"I'm okay," Beth whispered even as he heard the thickness in her voice.

Daryl looked into her eyes for a moment, seeing the moisture glassing them over, and he then pressed his lips to her forehead and he felt Beth's fingers clinging to the back of his shirt. He was ready to just tell the kids to put their shoes back on even though they just got home because the last thing he wanted to do right now was cook – even though they never ate out on weeknights. But Beth gave a light sigh then.

"Come on," she said softly and slowly pulled her head back. Daryl didn't take his eyes from her.

Hunter was still standing in the door-frame, watching them, a slight frown marring his face. He was young, but he wasn't an idiot and he knew something was wrong. He just had no idea what. His mom looked really upset even though as she stood from the bed and saw him, she did her best to give him a smile.

She gave him a kiss on the head. "You hungry?" She asked and even though he had just come running up the stairs, demanding to know what was for dinner, he was quiet now and just looked up at her, nodding.

She gave him a smile – a small one, but more of a real one – and she kissed his head again.

Hunter kept frowning. Something was definitely wrong.

Daryl pulled himself from the bed as well and came towards the door. "I'll make spaghetti," Daryl told them both and then reached out, putting a hand on Hunter's head, gently turning him back towards the stairs. "You kill your brother?" He asked.

"No," Hunter pouted, sounding truly disappointed that he couldn't answer differently.

As they went down the stairs, Daryl looked over his shoulder and Beth was right there, following them down. Beth was always right there. Even if she wasn't standing right next to him, Daryl knew that he would be able to look around and she wouldn't be too far away and it had been like that for so many years, he couldn't even imagine the possibility of it not being true anymore.

What the hell would he do if he didn't have her to look to anymore?

Without Beth, he already knew. There would be no Daryl.

…

He had been in this office before. First, when Beth took a pregnancy test and they had come to have Dr. Stookey confirm that she was pregnant and then when she took another pregnancy test three years later and again, Dr. Stookey had to confirm it.

Each time, Daryl had sat in the little waiting room in the chair next to Beth, his knee bouncing up and down with nervous energy, and Beth would put her hand down on it to still it – much like he did this morning and she did what she always did. This time, Daryl placed his hand over hers and linking their fingers together, he squeezed. She rested her head on his shoulder and neither of them said anything – the only sounds being the ticking of the clock and Carol's fingers clacking away on the computer's keyboard.

Daryl was scared out of his mind, but he very well couldn't act like that. Beth had hardly slept the night before – which meant that he didn't either and they wound up sitting on the couch down in the living room together, watching a string of movies on Lifetime – and she hadn't been able to eat breakfast that morning and Daryl had barely managed to swallow down two pieces of dry toast.

He couldn't be scared though because right now, Beth was terrified and this was all about Beth and she should have been able to be terrified without worrying about him, too.

The door opened and Dr. Stookey himself stood there instead of Karen, his nurse. "Beth, I'm all ready for you," the doctor said with a smile on his face and Daryl wondered how the hell could smile at a time like this; like they were just here to talk about the weather or something else just as boring and mundane.

Beth and Daryl both stood up, Daryl still holding onto her hand Beth holding onto it tightly.

"I just need Beth right now, Daryl," Bob said. "I'll come and get you when we're done we can all discuss it in my office."

Beth looked up at him and he knew that he was frowning, not at all liking being kept out, and he couldn't seem to get himself to stop. Beth put her hands on his cheeks and she looked completely exhausted. Daryl was sure he looked the same. He definitely felt the same.

"See you in a little bit," she said to him in a quiet voice and his hands went to her hips, grasping them as if he didn't want to let her go.

He _couldn't_ let her go. How the hell could anyone expect him to let her go?

He nodded and without a word, he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers in a kiss that was probably too hard, but he couldn't get himself to lighten it; kissing her right there in the middle of the waiting room and not caring who was around to see. Daryl was never the sort to willingly partake in open displays of affection like this. It was just so out of the ordinary for him and not at all what they did as a couple – and never did – and he wondered if he was preparing himself for the worst. He was probably scaring the shit out of her.

But still, he couldn't stop kissing her or get himself to pull away from her.

When Beth went into the back with Dr. Stookey, Daryl left, heading into the parking where he smoked a cigarette and then another right after that one. He tried to ignore the slight shake in his hands as he inhaled and exhaled the smoke. Nothing was wrong. Nothing could be wrong with her. She was still young and she was always eating – and trying to get him to eat, too – fresh fruit and she drank plenty of water and running after three kids kept her active. She did everything a person was supposed to do and she just couldn't have anything wrong with her.

If anything was wrong with her…

Daryl knew that if anything happened to her, he would have to keep himself together for their kids, but honestly, right now, Daryl couldn't see past something happening to Beth. He couldn't see keeping himself together and getting himself to keep on living past her.

Good thing they had made Shawn the kids' guardian.

"Daryl?"

His head whipped around to see that Carol had poked her head outside. "Dr. Stookey's done now and he said you could come wait in his office."

Daryl instantly crushed his cigarette and followed her inside and had just been inside for less than a minute when Beth came in next.

"How'd it go?" He instantly asked her.

"He said he'll be here in a few minutes," Beth said, digging around for something in her purse. She pulled out a tin of mints and Daryl couldn't help but smirk when she handed them to him.

He popped one into his mouth and she gave him a little smile. He reached out and touched her cheek and she closed her eyes.

They sat down in the two chairs side by side and his knee was back to bouncing. Again, the only sound was the ticking clock. Neither of them said a word, both too caught up in their own thoughts for the moment. Their heads both turned at the same time when the door entered and a still-smiling Dr. Stookey entered.

"Hello, Dixons," he went and sat behind his desk, his eyes never leaving them.

Daryl stared at that man and Beth crept her hand over to his. Daryl all but crushed it in his.

"Well, this test turned out just fine. No abnormalities whatsoever. No infection or inflammation and definitely no cancer. I guess we just didn't get enough cells the first time around. You're as right as rain. Everything else looks good. You're a very healthy woman, Beth."

It was as if someone had pushed him out of an airplane and two days later, finally, his feet were touching the ground again. He held onto Beth's hand even tighter.

He could _still_ hold onto her hand.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Beth turning her head towards him and he turned his to look at her. He his head and looked at her and she smiled her first real smile in days. And she almost looked like she wanted to laugh and cry all at the same time and Daryl felt exactly the same.

Daryl didn't know what to say. Jesus Christ, was there anything that could be said right now? The past two days of living hell, and now, what? Had that all just been a test of character or something? Did some big guy upstairs want to know if Daryl would die if anything ever happened to Beth? Daryl hoped he had his answer, because Daryl had always known it.

There was never any doubt and there never should be.

Without Beth, there would be no Daryl.

Daryl didn't say anything still. Instead, he gave her his own small smile and then with a hand on the back of her head, he pulled her in for a kiss – again, not caring about an audience. Why would he care about who was watching? He was going to kiss his wife, damn it, because she was right as rain.

They both were.

…

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 **Thank you very much for reading and please take a moment to review!  
**


	12. A New Day

**Some were really wanting a Matt x Anna one-shot, so here you go!**

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…

"What have I told you, Cecily Margaret Dixon? You do not eat jam in your daddy's and my bed. I am going to kill your daddy," she then added.

Anna's eyes fluttered open and she lifted her head from the pillow. Through the window, across the yard, she could see Beth carrying Cecily in her arms from the tree-house to the cabin, the little almost-toddler licking – what Anna assumed to be – jam from her sticky fingers. A moment later, she then heard a drum of thunder roll lowly in the distance and she noted the gray of the sky and the leaves on the trees dancing in the wind.

A storm was coming – and soon from the sounds of it.

She had to get up and see to the animals and yet, for the first morning in a very long time, Anna had absolutely no desire to pull herself from the bed. Instead, she rolled onto her other side, placing her back towards the window, and she looked at Matt, still sleeping next to her, lying on his back with his lips parted ever so slightly, the tiniest of snores escaping from him.

Like her, he was naked beneath the quilt that was pulled across his hips, leaving his bare chest exposed to her eyes. And she had no problem with looking her fill. He was her husband now, after all.

That simple statement in her mind brought a small smile across her lips.

Her husband.

She was married. She and Matt were married now. His last name was Berry so that was her last name now, too. Anna Berry. He had told her that if she wanted to still be Anna Mulligan, she could be – to which she had smiled and kissed him and told him that she would always be Anna Mulligan, but she wanted to be Anna Berry now, too.

She tucked her hand between her cheek and the pillow and she kept looking at him; watching him as he slept as if he didn't have a care in the world.

And maybe they didn't. At least, this morning, they didn't seem to.

Last night hadn't been their first time. That had been a couple months earlier, when she had assured him that she was eighteen now; though she still didn't understand what age had anything to do with it. But she knew how important it was to him; that they held onto this one thing from the old world.

He had asked her, what if some guy his age came onto the mountain and wanted to sleep with little Bee? Anna's disgusted and angry face had Matt tell her that her reaction to that just proved his point.

"I'm not as young as Bee," Anna had told him. "Nowhere even close," but Matt wouldn't be swayed on this.

Their first time had been in the hayloft in the barn, late at night, and despite Matt being as gentle and going as slow as possible, it had still hurt like hell and she had actually thumped him on the shoulder with her fist and he had let out a breathless laugh before kissing her, promising her that the next time would be better.

She was almost amazed when it actually had been. And every time after that, too.

And last night had probably been the best time of all and she wondered if it had anything to do with them being married now. She didn't doubt that that was the reason. Their lovemaking had been so intense and passionate and yet, it had been very much that. Lovemaking.

Anna watched Matt sleep beside her and she loved him with her whole heart. It amazed her to think that if the world hadn't come to an end, she never would have met him. She never would have even known he existed.

They all knew that Daryl and Beth would have found one another somehow; someway if the world had never ended. They were meant to be. It was as simple as that. Rosita was the first to admit that she and Spencer never would have found their way to one another. He had been living in Virginia and she was in Texas and their paths never would have crossed, but they found one another when the dead started walking again and they fell in love and for them, it was as simple as that.

Anna wondered which she and Matt were. Were they like Daryl and Beth, always meant to be no matter age or distance? Or were they like Rosita and Spencer, the end of the world being the best thing to ever happen to them?

Anna would be the first to admit that while she hoped for the first, she knew that she and Matt were probably the latter. The world had ended and instead of Matt living in DC and marrying someone the same age, and she still living in Louisiana and doing something far different than what she did now, they were here.

And that was more than okay. It was perfect because they were here now. Married.

She smiled and she wondered how long it would be until she stopped smiling whenever that word entered her mind. Matt was her husband and she was his wife and she could only hope that they would have a long life together on this mountain.

Anna gasped when suddenly, Matt rolled over to her and she found herself on her back with his face buried to the side of her throat.

"I thought you were sleeping," she said, shivering as his beard tickled her skin.

"I was, but you were staring at me and it was creeping me out," he mumbled and then chuckled when she playing pinched a bit of skin on his back. "What are you thinking about?" He lifted his head so he could look down at her, brushing some hair back from her forehead. "I thought I damn near took your breath away last night."

Anna wanted to roll her eyes at that, but it was the truth so she just shrugged instead. "I was just thinking about you and me," she answered honestly.

"I don't know how divorces work these days so if you've changed your mind…" he said, his lips moving upward into a little smile to show that he was joking, and she wanted to smile, too, and she tried, but something held her back.

"I know I'm young," she said softly and she hadn't been expecting to actually say it to him. "I know you think I'm young, but I promise, I'll be everything you want me-"

Matt swiftly leaned down and gave her a kiss, stopping her before any more words could spill past her lips. "Shut up," he said softly; gently. She opened her mouth, as if to protest, but Matt shook his head. "I mean it, Anna. Shut up."

She stared up at him and slowly, pressed her lips together.

"I know I've always seemed hung up on the age thing, but that's only because… Christ. I need to _feel_ older than you because you have always run circles around me. Ever since we met. You can do anything and everything and you're pretty damn amazing when you're doing it and I'm this weight that you have shackled around your ankle."

Anna's brow furrowed at that. "What are you talking about? You catch frogs better than me or even Aiden and Eli. No one can catch frogs like you."

Matt looked at her for a moment and saw that she was being completely serious.

"Breaded frog is one of my absolute favorite things in the world to eat and without you, I wouldn't be able to have it as nearly as much as I get to."

Matt leaned down and once again, he swiftly kissed her so she would stop talking; not because he was upset with what she was saying, but because she was just proving his point. She was amazing. Every damn thing she ever did around him and said to him was amazing.

"Thank Christ the world ended," he murmured into her lips, reading her mind, and she smiled against his, her arms slipping down around his lower back, pulling him more firmly down on top of her.

There was another roll of thunder, closer now, and a knock on their door.

With one more kiss, Matt pulled himself away from her and out of the bed. He found his boxers on the floor and tugged them back on and after making sure that Anna was covered with the quilt once more, he opened the door.

Eli stood there, with a tray in his arms and a grin on his face. "Morning!" He greeted.

"Morning," Matt smiled at him. "What's this?"

"Mom wanted me to bring it to you. It's breakfast and she said that since it's the day after your marriage, you and Anna get to have a bit of a lie-in," Eli recited as if he had memorized Beth's words as she had said them.

"Thanks, Eli," Matt said, his smile wider now, and he took the tray from the boy.

"Thank Beth for us!" Anna called from inside the room.

"I'm also supposed to tell you that Aiden and Aaron have already taken care of the animals," Eli continued. "But depending on how the rain comes, dad told me to tell you that we're probably going to go shower later."

"Sounds good," Matt nodded. "Come and get me if the rain is right."

"I will," Eli promised with an eager nod. "Bye, Anna!" He called out.

"Bye, Eli!" Anna called back as Eli turned and ran away back towards the cabin.

Matt carefully closed the door behind him and carried the tray to the bed. Anna eagerly sat up and gently removed the cloth that laid over it. There was a plate full of fluffy scrambled eggs, a plate with two honey corn cakes, and two cups of blueberry juice with a dash of cinnamon sprinkled over the tops.

"So, you want to eat first or…" Matt gestured a hand back and forth between them.

"Are you kidding?" Anna looked at him with wide eyes. "Beth made us corn cakes!"

Matt laughed at that and joined her back in the bed, sitting down beside her, and taking the fork she was holding out for him. She had read his mind.

…

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 **I hope you liked it! Thank you for reading and please take a moment to review!  
**


	13. Fifty Four Days

**This idea has been in my head for quite a few days now.**

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…

She was coughing again.

Well, actually, she hadn't stopped coughing; not since they woke up in the rusted-out car and began walking again. The coughing was happening more often now and sometimes, she had to stop walking and he would watch as she coughed until her eyes watered. And to make matters worse that day, the sky was a dark grey and smelled like rain. It had been raining on and off now for days on end now and Beth wasn't able to get better because of it. They could never get completely dry or warm and Daryl didn't know what to do.

He had to find her – both of them – somewhere safe and dry, but they had been walking and passed nothing except rotting houses and abandoned cars on the side of the road. He needed to find something better for her. He had to find her some medicine, too, and he had to build her a fire and he had to get her a blanket somewhere…

A rumble of thunder broke through his thoughts and Daryl clenched his jaw together so tightly, he grinded down on his teeth until they ached.

From the corner of his eye, he saw a blackness through the trees and he looked at Beth, walking beside him. He had slowed his steps over the past few days so she could walk at his side. When she was feeling well, she used to lead the way and he would follow her without argument, but since her cough began, she had started to fall behind. Daryl didn't like that. He wanted her right next to him.

"Beth," he said and he hadn't used his voice in a couple of hours and it was rougher than usual. Beth lifted her eyes to him and he cocked his head to the side.

The wind had shifted and was picking up in speed. The rain was going to start sooner rather than later and he'd rather get her somewhere now than walk any further in hopes that something better would come along. There was only now. They couldn't count on anything for tomorrow or the next day or even in a few hours from now.

Beth followed his lead without question and when she saw the cave, he didn't miss the relief across her face. She began walking ahead, but Daryl stopped her, reading out and taking her arm – gently. He was getting more comfortable in touching her though he still didn't do it too often. He still had to get used to actually touching another person. That didn't mean though that he minded when she touched him.

"I doubt a walker's in there," she said, weak amusement in her tired eyes. "It looks like we won't be even able to stand straight up in there."

"Wasn' thinkin' of a walker," he said and it was almost comical the way her eyes widened.

"Oh," she said and then shook her head. "I didn't even think of that."

"Obviously," he smirked a little and she rolled her eyes, stepping back.

"Get to it then, Daniel Boone," she teased him and he smirked again, lifting his crossbow into both hands as he approached the cave.

Another rumble of thunder was so much closer now and he could feel the first raindrops start to fall, hitting his hands and the back of his neck. He had to clean this cave out fast and get Beth as far back into it as it went. She'd be cold, but at least she'd be dry in here.

Beth appeared beside him then, holding the box of matches and she struck one. He didn't want her coming into the cave until he cleared it, but he needed both hands right now and she stretched her arm out, holding the delicate flame in front of them so they could both see as they stepped to the dark opening.

Daryl couldn't help, but frown when his eyes adjusted to the flickering weak light in the darkness. The cave wasn't much of a cave at all. Just a hole in some boulder. He had been hoping for something deeper that could get Beth away from the mouth and the rain that was going to be pouring down in any second. He sighed, because he knew that something was better than nothing, but still, he had been hoping for something… a little more.

There were no animals hiding out. There were plenty of dried leaves that had blown in though and Beth stepped completely in. The match burned out and there was still just enough light out for her to work by that and kneeling down, she began to scoop the leaves together in a pile.

"I'll be right back," he promised and she nodded, about to respond, but another cough attack hit her and she lifted her arm, coughing again and again into the crook of her arm.

Daryl didn't go too far at all; just enough to collect enough wood and he just hoped it wouldn't be too wet from all of the rain they've had for the past few days. He headed back into the cave just as the drops began falling more steadily. He kneeled down next to Beth and put the sticks on the ground. She added some of the dry leaves and he struck another match. He brought it towards the leaves and then bent over, blowing gently, giving the flame oxygen and he only hoped that the fire caught and the rain and wind didn't shift directions and blow into their little hole and blow it out before it could get going.

He needed to get this fire going because right now, he didn't even have a blanket to offer Beth to help keep her warm. They had nothing except one pack shared between them, her knife and his crossbow. They hadn't eaten anything that day either except a can of long-expired fruit cocktail, shared between them, that they had found and was the last of their food supply. He wanted to think that they'd find something else out there. Something better than a hole in a rock, but at least for now, they were out of the rain.

Beth began coughing again and the flames caught the dry leaves and a small fire began crackling. It wouldn't be big enough to keep either of them warm, but at least it was something. He listened as the wind howled and the rain whipped down. At least he had gotten her out of it and he cocked his head towards her and she didn't argue as Beth scooted as far back in the hole as she could, pressing her back against the far wall. She hugged her legs to her chest and began coughing into her knees.

He had to find them something better than this. He had to find them food and medicine and blankets and while he was still keeping an eye out for the rest of their family, his main priority was Beth and keeping her safe and healthy.

He couldn't let her down. Tomorrow, once the storm had passed – hopefully, it would pass by tomorrow – they would start walking again and they would start the search up again; the search for something better.

…

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 **Thank you so much for reading and please take a moment to review.**

 **I miss this universe so much, I keep going back and forth on whether I want to write a third story to my epic.**


	14. The Orchard II

**_State Fair_ is one of my favorite musicals and naturally, it is perfect inspiration for _The Orchard_ universe.**

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...

The clock ticking in the hallway said it was not even five o'clock yet, the sky just now beginning to turn gray as the sun drew nearer to rising, but Beth had been quite up for a while now already. She had so much to do today in preparation and she hadn't been able to get back to sleep once Daryl had woken up from a dream – _nightmare_ – that he had left him sweating and shaking and Beth had had him rest his head on her shoulder and she stroked his hair until he had managed to fall back asleep. But Beth hadn't been able to after that. He didn't have nightmares every night and when he did, most of the time, he pulled himself away and went out into the barn to stay with Merle, because – as he explained it to her – he didn't want anything like that near her.

Beth didn't care. She loved Daryl – every single thing about him – and she would never, ever think there was anything wrong with him even if he didn't believe the same thing about himself.

She was relieved – and surprised – that he was able to fall asleep once again, but she found herself able to do nothing except lay there and listen to him breathe and stare up at their dark bedroom ceiling. Her husband had been through a war and had seen so many things and had done so many things and gone through so many things and Beth knew that she would probably never know because Daryl would never tell her. She wished he would though. She knew she probably did not really want to know everything that he had experienced during his years served – mainly in France and then Germany – but maybe if he told her and she knew, she would be able to help him when he had his nightmares.

Maybe she'd be able to do something more for him than just stroke his hair.

Beth sat at the kitchen table now, Smokey – their black Lab – sleeping on her bare feet, keeping them warm for her, and she filled in the cards she needed for her jars of jams.

Elizabeth Dixon

Senoia, Georgia

#43

Apple Jam

She was also going to be entering her apple butter, applesauce and her apple cinnamon pie – and Daryl was certain that all four of her entries would result in her bringing home four blue ribbons this year from the State's Fair. Beth didn't know about that.

Last year had been her first year entering anything – her apple jam then, too – and she had taken second place, which was wonderful enough for her. A blue ribbon was certainly a lovely dream and a good thing to work towards, but there was Susan Kramer and she _always_ won the blue ribbon with her apple jam.

Hearing the back steps creak and then the outer screen door open, Beth lifted her head and a moment later, Merle stepped into the kitchen, but stopped just inside the door when he saw that Beth – and just Beth – was the only person in the room. Smokey instantly got up to go and greet him, his tail wagging happily as he did so.

She gave her brother-in-law a smile. "Good morning, Merle. You beat everyone here. Even Daryl." She stood up. "Please sit. Would you like some coffee?" She asked as she already moved towards the stove.

For a moment, it looked as if Merle was going to turn right around and go back outside and for a moment, Beth thought he would do just that. He had been living with them for six months. Six months since they picked him up from the train station after receiving the telegram that Merle hadn't died at all, but rather, they had just lost track of him – which was nearly just as bad. He had been a POW in a German camp and once the war ended, he had then been sent to a hospital in England for treatment and recuperation. And in that time, he had lost his hand and hadn't uttered a single word.

But none of that mattered. They were just beyond happy that he was alive and home now. They had fixed the attic up for him, but most nights, he preferred to sleep outdoors, not liking the feeling of the walls closing in on him. He slept in the hayloft of the barn, staying close to the animals.

"Here, Merle," Beth turned back to him with a steaming cup of coffee in her hands. She did not add anything to it, knowing that he preferred to drink it black. "Please, sit. I'm going to be making pancakes for breakfast. I can get them started if you'd like to eat now."

Merle took the cup from her hands and shook his head and she gave him a smile. She didn't ask him to sit again, but she moved towards the table, Smokey trotting after her to take his place once again at her feet and she picked up her pen. She didn't want him to think that she was pressuring him to stay and sit with her. She would like him to and hope that he would, but if he took his coffee and went back outside, she wouldn't be surprised.

Beth took her next label and began filling that out and she tried to keep herself from smiling when, from the corner of her eye, she saw Merle slowly approach the table and slowly sit down in the chair across from her.

Daryl had told her plenty of stories of how Merle used to be – before the war – and some were so outrageous and unbelievable and _scandalous_ , she would laugh so hard, she would have tears in her eyes. It was hard to believe that the same man from those stories was now the man who sat across from her, but it _was_ Merle. He was Daryl's brother and therefore, he was her brother, too, and Beth still didn't know much about him at all – and she was certain that he knew even less about her – but she loved him. He was family.

"Are you excited to be leaving for the fair today?" Beth asked, lifting her eyes to look at him across from her. "Is Moby excited?" She then asked with a smile and was quite pleased to see Merle's own lips twitch in their own smile.

Moby was their prize hog and he was coming to the fair with them; Daryl determined to win his own blue ribbon this week and Merle had been coddling Moby like any mother would to their baby, making sure he had a blanket at night and got the most apple cores at feeding time. To watch two grown men fawn over a hog, making sure he was fat, healthy and happy, it was endlessly amusing to Beth. She had been teasing Daryl for the past few weeks that it was pretty obvious that he loved Moby more than her and Shawn and she always laughed when Daryl didn't ever seem to deny that.

"At least one of us is excited," Beth then continued. "I'm feeling a bit nervous, to be honest. It's always nerve-wracking when someone outside of our family eats something I've made. Family has to tell you that they love it even if it's terrible. That's why family is wonderful. They love you no matter what. But they don't make the best judges, that's for sure." She continued talking as she filled out her next cards. "Which one do you like best?" She asked.

Merle didn't seem to hesitate as he pointed to the jars of her apple jam.

Beth smiled. "That's Daryl's favorite, too, and it always sells well at the church bazaar. How amazing would it be if both Moby and me won blue ribbons this week?" The thought out loud made her smile. She then looked to Merle and was looking at her, his eyes focused as he listened intently. Her smile softened. "I know most of the men don't go, but when the judges do their tastings and announce the winners… it would mean the world to me if you were there."

Again, Merle's head nod was nearly instantaneous and Beth's smile widened.

"How about I get started on those pancakes?" She then suggested as she stood up and went to the cabinets to begin gathering what she would need to mix the batter, humming an Andrew Sisters song softly to herself as she did.

A big breakfast was important on the morning they left for the state fair. It was a busy day and they needed their energy to last them until suppertime.

When she turned back towards the table, she saw that Merle was writing on one of the labels and out of curiosity, Beth couldn't help, but go and see what it was that he had written. When she saw, she let out a laugh. Beneath her information, he had written:

 _The best damn jam in the state_.

Beth beamed as she picked the label up and looked at it. She then looked down to Merle.

"I don't know how appropriate that would be for the judges to see, but I'm going to keep this one in my pocket all week for good luck." She leaned down and kissed his cheek. "Thank you, Merle."

Merle reached his hand out and covered hers, giving it a squeeze. She squeezed back.

…

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 **Thank you very much for reading and please take a moment to review!**


	15. The Orchard III

**Written and posted on my tumblr, but wanted to post them here, too. I've been in a _The Orchard_ mood lately.**

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…

"Daryl," she murmured his name as his lips scraped down the side of her neck and she couldn't help but let out a giggle even as her hips lifted from the bed to press against his. "We don't really have time for this," she pointed out to him as his lips then skimmed across her collarbone and she arched into him again.

And it was true. They didn't. It was almost dawn and their rooster would be crowing soon to announce to everyone on the farm that another day had begun and it was time to get up. Her parents would be up. Shawn and Henry would be up. Everyone would be hungry for breakfast…

There really wasn't an opportunity to be lazy on a farm. Not even in the colder months after the harvest. The animals always had to be fed and cared for and there were the winter crops they grew – potatoes and peas – that had to be seen to.

Daryl knew all of these things better than anyone and yet, he couldn't seem to get himself to stop. He was the furthest a man could be from shying away from his work and the things that needed to be done but some mornings, he woke up and looked over at Beth still in bed beside him and all he wanted to do was stay beside her for as long as possible. And he didn't think that that was a bad thing for a husband to want to do with his wife.

He hoped the rooster would give them just a few extra minutes this morning. If not, he'd go out and shoot a bolt through it for ruining this. He had a feeling they'd have a dead rooster that morning.

Beth had a habit of sleeping in his white undershirts, her underwear, and nothing else. Even in the winter when she was always complaining about the cold, she still came to bed, only wearing his tee-shirt and snuggling her body up against his for warmth. Daryl's lips moved off of her and pushed the tee-shirt up now, exposing her breasts. Their second son, Henry, was just a few months old and Beth was breastfeeding. After his birth and the birth of their first, Beth's breasts had gotten bigger. Not by much, but he was her husband and he saw her breasts just about everyday so he could tell.

"Daryl," she whispered his name now as he dragged his lips down her sternum, his hands curling around her hips as her fingers tunneled through his hair.

His dog tags fell out of his shirt and fell upon her stomach, warm and heavy feeling on her skin from being against his chest.

With his eyes closed, he pressed his nose to her skin and inhaled her deeply.

But then, the rooster crowed outside, Henry started crying in the next room and Beth couldn't help but laugh softly. Daryl sighed heavily and lifted his head, looking at her.

"'s not funny," he grumbled.

She giggled. "It's a little funny."

"How the hell did we find time to make two babies?" Daryl asked, pulling himself back up her body.

"Well, we didn't need _that_ long," Beth said and pursed her lips together to keep from laughing as he gave her a look.

The baby's room was connected to Daryl and Beth's bedroom and Beth got out of bed, pulling back down the tee-shirt as she crossed the room and went into the next one. Henry was crying in his crib and when Beth lifted him up in her arms, he just seemed to cry harder. Beth hushed him and rocked him, carrying him to the rocking chair in the corner by the window. Settling herself down and adjusting him in her arms, she lifted the tee-shirt and began to feed him from her breast.

 _"_ _A little bird told me that you love me,  
And I believe that you do.  
This little bird told me I was fallin';  
Fallin' for no one but you._

 _There's no use denying,  
Might as well confess.  
Of all the boys I know, dear,  
I'm sure I love you best."_

She sang softly as Henry ate his breakfast and noticing a form in the doorway, she lifted her eyes and smiled as she saw Daryl standing in the doorway, watching her. He had gone and gotten Shawn from his room and the toddler still looked half asleep in his arms. Beth smiled at them both.

"Morning, sweetie," she said to Shawn. "Do you want some oatmeal?"

Shawn nodded. "I'm hungry," he mumbled.

"As soon as your brother finishes his breakfast, I'll come down and get you some food, too," Beth smiled at him.

"Yeah, le's go," Daryl said, bouncing Shawn in his arms. "It's weird if I get jealous of your lil' brother just 'cause he's eatin' his breakfast."

With that, Daryl turned and left the room as he heard Beth's laughter following him.

…

Her parents know she's not a virgin. Obviously. They're married and they already have two kids and her parents are more than aware of how their kids were made. But living with his in-laws isn't the most ideal situation when he wants to have sex with his wife.

He has no idea when Shawn happens. Somewhere between Georgia and California or maybe in their Los Angeles home on the Sunkist groves. Henry comes two years later and that either happens when they're out in the barn after dinner or in the apple orchard one late night.

And then another year later, he knows exactly when the twins happen. The back of the pickup truck after he takes her out to town and they stop on the way home because Beth sees two shooting stars in a row and she wants to get out and see if anymore are going to fall that night and one thing leads to another – as it usually does when it comes to them.

When Beth finds out two months later that she's pregnant – again – she tells Daryl with laughter in her voice and laughter in her eyes. "One of these times, do you think we might actually be in a bed when this happens?"

He just smirks and wraps his arms around her and hugs her tight.

And another three months later and she finds out that they're having twins, she tells him when she finds him in the far east field with the cattle and he goes completely still when she tells him – laughter once again in her voice and in her eyes and Daryl just stares at her because it's barely been seven years since he's been back from the war and all of a sudden, he's going to have four kids? And Beth must be reading his mind because she steps to him and slips her arms around his waist, smiling up at him.

"You wanted four kids, remember?" She smiles up at him and there's teasing in her tone, but she's completely right because he did say that and he has to wonder now what the hell he was thinking because all of a sudden, he can't even think of four different names for four different kids and why the hell is she so happy?

She's the one who's going to have to push these two kids out.

…


	16. The White House

**I'm on vacation this week so I'm kind of taking it easy with writing, but I did write this short thing up even though it kind of made me sad at the idea. I am also going to be updating _Blue Ridge_ next and I have a new idea for my next Bethyl AU story. I hope everyone is having a great week!**

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...

"Beth?"

With a quiet knock on the partially opened door, he peeked a look into the bedroom and saw her sitting on the bed with her back turned towards him. She didn't respond or turn her head towards him. He slipped into the room, closing the door behind him. She still wore her black dress and her hair, which had been down that morning, was now pulled up into a sloppy knot on the top of her head. Her heels had been kicked off, now on the carpet across the room.

Daryl went around the bed and sat down slowly next to her, looking at her. Her face was red and stained with tears and without a word, he sat as close to her, his arm slipping around her lower back, holding her and bringing her in tightly to his side. Still, she didn't say anything. She lifted her hands and wiped her cheeks even though it looked like she had stopped crying for the moment. They sat there and didn't say anything. Daryl just made sure that she knew he was right there and that he wasn't going anywhere.

He wasn't going to do something stupid and ask how she was. How the hell did he think she was?

"I didn't want to cry in front of my mom," she finally said softly, after a few minutes.

"Don't think your mom would mind," he answered. "She seems to be doin' okay."

"That's why I don't want to cry in front of her. It would just make her start crying again." She sniffled then as if even thinking about crying was going to make her start again.

Daryl tightened his arm around her and she dropped her head down onto his shoulder. She exhaled a shaky breath and he couldn't see her face, but he could feel it in her body as she began to cry again. He wrapped his other arm around her and held onto her tightly.

She had been crying on and off all day – since that morning in the funeral home and then the service at the church and then in the cemetery next to the church and now, at the luncheon at the farmhouse. She had tried to hide it, doing her best to keep herself from crying in front of the others; not wanting to upset her mom more than Annette already was and not wanting to cry in front of the kids, though Daryl couldn't imagine it being a big deal if any of them did see Beth cry.

Hershel was Annette's husband and he was the kids' grandpa, but he had been Beth's dad and people expected her to cry as much as anyone today.

But Daryl didn't tell her that because sometimes, Beth got something in her head and there was nothing a person could say to get it out of there. She was as stubborn as a person could come, but Daryl supposed he could be like that, too, and that was one of the reasons why people said they were good together.

He wasn't sure how long she cried, but eventually, her body stopped shaking and she sniffled and she lifted her head, wiping at her cheeks.

"I got your shirt wet," she said in a hoarse voice, looking down to the white dress shirt with the black tie he wore that day. He had taken off his suit jacket after the cemetery and had left it in their truck.

"Who cares 'bout that?" He asked, his eyes set on her and not looking anywhere else. "You gotta come down and eat somethin', Beth. You haven' eaten anythin' all day and we've got enough casseroles to get us through 'til next year, at least."

She shook her head just like he knew she would. "I'm not hungry," she then said just like he knew she would. She sniffled again and then let out a soft sigh. "How are the kids?" She finally turned her head and looked at him for his answer.

Daryl gave a nod. "Good," he said and he meant it. There had all been wet eyes and sniffles this morning, throughout the whole process, but now, downstairs, people were telling Hershel stories and there were more smiles and laughter than tears. "You never told me your pops knew 'bout me sneakin' in through your window."

And for the first time that day – in the past few days, really – a small smile pulled at Beth's lips and Daryl leaned in, kissing her on the temple and she wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tight. Daryl hugged her so tight in return, it wouldn't be surprising if it was hurting her, but he knew that it was exactly what Beth needed right now.

...

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 **Thank you very much for reading and please take a moment to review!**


	17. Catch Me

…

Matty Dixon has no idea what wakes him up.

One minute, he's fast asleep and the next, his eyes snap open and he lays there for a moment, confused; almost as if he has no idea where he is. He's in bed in his bedroom, of course. Where else would he be? He must have been dreaming – about what though, he's already forgotten – because it's almost as if he's _surprised_ to be in his house.

He looks at the clock on the nightstand next to his bed. Just a little bit before three-thirty. He lays there for another moment, waiting to drift back to sleep, but it's not happening and after a deep sigh, and he shoves the covers off his body and sits up. His Pitbull, Otter, usually sleeps on the floor right next to his bed or on the floor in the hallway right outside his bedroom door, but he's not in either spot. Maybe dad is up and he's taken the dog out.

Matty pulls himself from bed and is amazed at how awake he feels even though it's still the middle of the night. Or does three o'clock count as _really_ early morning?

Going into the bathroom across the hall from his bedroom, Matty flicks on the light and he swears he can hear his eyes sizzle in his skull from the bright light. He quickly flicks the switch down and even though the bathroom is now dark, he still is seeing spots. There is a football-shaped nightlight in the outlet next to the sink and Matty uses it to empty his bladder and then wash his hands.

Out in the hallway, he pokes his head into the nursery next to his bedroom, but he could tell that his four-month-old sister, Ophelia, wasn't in her crib. One of their parents is definitely awake right now. At least, he hopes so. If not, someone has kidnapped Ophelia and dognapped Otter, too.

His parents' bedroom is across from Ophelia's and Matty only sees one lump in the bed. It looks like his mom. That makes sense. His dad is usually the one who gets up at night with Ophelia even though she has stopped waking them all up that much and no matter how many times mom tells dad to stay in bed, he still is always the one to get up when she starts crying for one reason or another.

The wooden stairs creak beneath his feet as he heads downstairs.

 _"_ _I got off the plane."_

"Ugh," Matty can't help, but say as he pauses on the bottom step and hears the familiar line coming from the television.

Daryl is sitting on the couch in the living room, Ophelia in his arms, and he's feeding her a bottle. All of the lights are off except the light coming from the television and the warm multi-colored lights wrapped around the Christmas tree in their front window.

Daryl turns his head to see him on the stairs. "What are you doin' up?" He asks him.

Matty shrugs and lets out a yawn. "Don't know. Can't sleep anymore."

He steps down from the last step and Otter, having been passed out on the floor beneath the coffee table gets up to greet him with a tired wag of his tail. Matty gives him a quick rub on the side of his neck and then walks around the coffee table to flop down next to his dad on the couch. They watch the rest of the episode in silence.

"They're probably divorced now," Matty says once the screen goes black.

Daryl smirks a little at that. "Prob'ly," he agrees.

"I can't stand them together," Matty continued with a small frown.

"You hide it well," Daryl replies.

"They broke up all the way back in season three. And they _were_ on a break, but still. And then, they're apart for all that time until they get drunk _one_ time and have a baby, but still, they're apart. And then, in the last half of season ten, we're supposed to believe that they're this perfect couple with this great love story? It's a crock."

"Hey," Daryl says in warning, but that is all he says. "I know what you mean though."

"Rachel should have wound up with Gavin anyway," Matty says as he pulls himself off the couch. He goes to the shelf where they keep all of their DVDs, including all ten seasons of Beth's favorite television show.

"He was barely in the show," Daryl says, his eyes falling down to Ophelia as she keeps suckling away, blinking up at him, and he gives her a little smile.

"Still better than Ross," Matty shrugs. "Or how about Rachel didn't end up with anyone and it was just her and Emma? She had an amazing chance, going to work in Paris, and she stays for _Ross_?"

Daryl just smirks and doesn't say anything.

"He's whiney and everything's always about him."

Daryl doesn't argue with that. The character's got his funny moments, but for the most part, Ross is definitely is least favorite.

Matty slips in a disc from the third season and then comes to collapse back on the couch next to Daryl. Ophelia, finished with her bottle, turns her head away from the nipple and Daryl leans forward, slipping the bottle onto the coffee table before turning Ophelia in his arms and settling back again, he begins to burp her. Matty selects the episode Daryl knew he would and _The One Where No One's Ready_ begins to play.

This is Beth's favorite episode and both Daryl and Matty prefer it, too.

Ophelia burps and Daryl wipes her mouth before holding her in his arms again; she already beginning to slip back to sleep. Daryl looks to his nine-year-old son next to him as Matty stares at the television, mindlessly rubbing Otter behind his torn ear as the pit-bull sleeps on the other side of the couch, next to him.

"So, what are you doin' up?" Daryl asks him again.

Matty shrugs, not looking away from the television. "I think I was dreaming, but I can't remember about what. Merry Christmas Eve, by the way."

Daryl smiles at that. "Merry Christmas Eve."

"Are you going back to bed?" Matty asks.

"Nah. I'm pretty awake, too, for some reason." Ophelia has a bouncer on the floor and moving slowly, Daryl leans down and places the sleeping baby in it "Well, if we're gonna do this, we're gonna do it right," he says as he stands up and Matty doesn't know what he means, but he grins and pauses the episode and hurries to follow his dad as Daryl heads into the kitchen.

…

Beth smells it before her eyes even open. Someone's made popcorn. And even in her still half-asleep brain, that doesn't make any sense. What time is it? Who is awake and downstairs to be making popcorn? Did someone break in?

That thought gets her to wake with a start and her eyes fly to the spot next to her. Daryl's gone and his side of the bed is cold. She then looks to the clock. Almost five o'clock and the sky outside is grey. Is Daryl awake and the one making popcorn? Or did someone break in, make Daryl go downstairs and did the burglar force him to make them popcorn as the person robbed them blind?

Beth flies from the bed, her heart racing. Ophelia isn't in her crib, Matty isn't in his bed and where is Otter? She hurries down the stairs as quickly as she can and then comes to an abrupt stop on the bottom step. Daryl and Matty are sitting on the couch, a bowl of popcorn between them, Ophelia is in her bouncer, awake and quiet, sucking on her pacifier, and Otter is sitting on the floor, looking to Matty, begging for popcorn. And on the television, they are watching an episode of _FRIENDS_.

"What?" She says because it's the only thing she can think to say right now.

Daryl and Matty both turn their heads to look at him and give her a smile.

"Merry Christmas Eve, mom," Matty says.

"Mornin'," Daryl greets and Beth just keeps staring at them.

"What are you two doing?" She finally manages to ask.

"Watching _the One with the Embryos_. Want some popcorn?" Matty asks, holding up the bowl and he is speaking as if all of this is so perfectly normal.

"I was holdin' off on makin' the coffee 'til you got up," Daryl says. "I'll start a pot now." He stands up from the couch and carefully steps over Otter, the dog refusing to move; not with his favorite human treat of popcorn right in front of him.

"Want me to pause?" Matty asks, already grabbing the remote.

"Yeah," Daryl says and then, coming to Beth, he leans in and gives her a peck. "Mornin'," he says again and she looks up at him, her eyebrows furrowed together. Daryl smiles a little and shrugs. "Neither of us could sleep and Matty was going off on one of his Ross tirades."

Beth's face relaxes into a smile at that. "I thought we were being robbed and you were making the burglar popcorn."

Daryl smirks at that and gives her hip a squeeze as he heads towards the kitchen. "Sounds like somethin' I'd do," he comments.

Beth smiles as she heads towards the couch and stepping over Otter, she sits down next to Matty, giving him a kiss on the head. Ophelia sees her mama and begins spastically kicking her legs and waving her arms and Beth smiles, hefting the baby girl into her arms. She kisses her head, pops a piece of popcorn into her mouth and looks at the still frame on the television.

"Which one is on after this one?"

Matty munches on a mouthful of popcorn, swallowing before answering. " _The One with Rachel's' Other Sister_?" He suggests.

"Sounds good to me," Beth smiles at him.

Daryl returns with two cups of steaming coffee – sugar and cream stirred into Beth's and black for him – and once he's settled down on the other side of Beth, Matty presses the play button and the episode begins once again.

"If dad had said another woman's name when you were getting married, would you have been upset?" Matty asks.

Beth is taking a sip of coffee and she smiles a little around the rim of the mug. "To put it lightly."

She gives a sideways look to Daryl, but he just smirks to himself, sinking back into the couch and putting his feet up on the coffee table. He sips his coffee and keeps watching the episode and doesn't say anything.

"But nope. It's not Ross's fault at all and it's all Emily's for being so upset," Matty frowns at the television, grabbing another fistful of popcorn. "I hate Ross," he then mutters.

"Matty's pretty sure him and Rachel are divorced by now," Daryl comments.

"Oh, well I'm pretty sure the majority of people think that," Beth agrees.

The episode ends and Matty gets up to get another disc and Beth leaves her mug on the coffee table before leaning back next to Daryl, adjusting Ophelia more comfortably in her arms. She looks to Daryl and gives him a smile.

"Merry Christmas Eve," She says to him in a quiet voice.

Daryl gives her a little smile and he lifts his arm, putting it around her shoulders and gently pulling her securely into his side. He kisses her temple. "Merry Christmas Eve."

…

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 **Thank you very much for reading and please take a moment to review!**


	18. House Call IV

…

"Hunter, don't-"

 _SPLASH!_

"-run."

Beth looks over to her sister. "We went over the rules in the car. I swear," she says to Maggie.

Maggie just laughs though. Hunter may only be four, but he's already a wild one. They can all see that. He entered his terrible twos and never seemed to leave them. He's mischievous – to put it mildly – and anytime she babysits her two nephews and niece, Maggie is always relieved when Beth and Daryl return at the end of the night and Maggie can leave the children – who she loves very much – to go to the quietness of her own home.

She honestly has no idea how her sister and brother-in-law deal with little Hunter Dixon twenty-four hours, seven days a week. Beth Dixon is not even thirty yet and already has three children and Maggie is thinking that her sister's beautiful blonde hair might not be blonde for much longer. Her oldest son, eight-year-old Luke, and two-year-old daughter, Abby, are hardly handfuls when compared to Hunter, but Hunter is more than capable of turning his parents grey entirely on his own. Still though, three children – all young – and a family of five living in a tiny house, stepping on one another at every turn, Maggie admires the hell out of her baby sister because Maggie doesn't know if she'd, personally, be able to survive.

There's a reason she and her husband, Glenn, have not made the plunge into parenthood yet.

After three years in their apartment, Maggie and Glenn had recently put a down payment on a house for themselves. A two-story house with a brick front and a matching brick walkway and three bedrooms on the second floor. There's a basement as well as an attic and after living in an apartment for so long, there's just so much room, and Maggie doesn't know what to do with it.

The best part of their new home is the pool in the fenced-in backyard; the _in ground_ pool – which in Georgia during the summer, both Maggie and Glenn know is going to get plenty of use.

Before the boxes are even unpacked and the furniture is slightly still in haphazard positions in the rooms, waiting to be arranged into their proper places, Maggie invites the Dixons over for a swim.

Living up in the woods with no one else around them, the Dixons have absolute privacy and Maggie knows that the kids have a plastic pool that Daryl drags out for them and fills up with water from the hose when it gets to be exceptionally hot – as Georgia summers can be – but an actual swimming pool at their disposal? Well, that's something completely different and the kids – even Abby – are beyond the point of being excited that even though they all heard Beth say no to running, that doesn't mean that they're actually able to control themselves from doing it.

"Luke!" Beth then scolds, but the older boy has just run and dived into the pool right behind his brother. Beth sighs and Maggie laughs before plucking her niece from Beth's arms.

Beth has pulled Abby's baby-fine blonde hair into a braid and she is wearing a black baby bikini with pink polka dots, her waterproof diaper rustling beneath. Beth had never liked seeing little babies on the beaches or at the pool in bikinis. They were way too young to be wearing bikinis. But then she had Abby and being able to just take off her bottoms to change her diaper is so much easier than having to worry about peeling off an entire wet swimsuit.

When Abby is older and out of diapers, she's definitely not going to wear a two-piece. Daryl has already said. But for now, it's always about how to change a diaper as quickly as possible.

Maggie carries Abby to the patio and Beth watches Luke and Hunter for a moment in the pool. Hunter's orange floaties are secure on his arms and both boys are wearing their swim trunks, plenty of sunscreen, and their laughter is echoing in the air as they splash at one another. Beth watches with a smile before turning towards her sister.

"Where's Glenn?" Beth asks as she takes the diaper bag from her shoulder and sets it down on the table. Abby is squirming like a worm, trying to go run off into the pool after her brothers, as Maggie attempts at putting her own orange floaties onto her arms and Beth kneels down to help.

"Picking up the pizza," Maggie says, dropping her hands so Beth can do it. She watches as Beth swiftly gets them onto Abby's arms easily even with Abby trying to run off. Maggie wonders if these are things that women just become good at when they become moms without any practice.

Beth then picks Abby up and hands her back to Maggie for the moment so she can peel her tee-shirt and blue jean shorts off, revealing her own bikini that she's wearing underneath. Maggie smirks a little when she sees it.

It's not as if Daryl is some asshole dictator who tells his wife what she can and cannot wear, but Maggie does know that Daryl can be… hmm, what's the words she's looking for? A caveman in regards to his wife and feeling like every male's eyes in the room is always looking at her wherever they go and every one of those guys wants to sleep with her and he needs to protect her at all costs while punching every other man?

That description might work.

Doesn't exactly roll off the tongue smoothly, but it definitely is a description that rings true.

"Where's Daryl?" Maggie asks, looking around as if he'll suddenly pop into her backyard.

"He worked this morning at the garage, but he'll be around hopefully soon," Beth says and as she does, her eyes float to the back gate as if willing her husband to appear at that very moment.

"He's doing that a lot lately," Maggie says and Beth looks to her for clarification. "Working. Every time I stop by or call, he seems to be at the garage." She then pauses as if waiting for Beth to refute that, but Beth just nods.

"We're saving our money," Beth says simply, but Maggie is staring at her and waiting because there is definitely more to it than just that, and both know it. Beth lets out a little sigh and then looks to Abby. "Come on, Ms. Abby. Let's get you in the pool."

Beth takes her daughter from Maggie's arms again and Abby is already clapping with glee as Beth carefully steps down into the pool by way of the cement steps and then slowly, she brings Abby into the water as well. The toddler is instantly overjoyed – squealing with laughter and kicking her legs and Beth laughs at her pure joy.

"Here. We bought this for her yesterday," Maggie approaches the pull with a donut-shaped float and drops it into the pool. She then strips off her own tee-shirt, revealing her own bikini and then sits down on the edge before slipping into the water.

"Thank you so much for this," Beth says in regards to the float as if it's actually the bill of Abby's future college education, paid in full.

Maggie doesn't say anything – it's just a cheap plastic pool float, for God's sake. She just holds the float still as Beth lifts Abby up and settles her down in the hole opening.

"Abby!" Luke shouts out to her and then comes kicking over. "I'm gonna take her, mom," he says.

"Do not use your baby sister as a human shield," Beth warns Luke and he nods even though they all know that that's exactly what he is going to do.

Holding onto the sides of the float, he kicks off, pushing Abby along in front of him and Abby's laughter joins along with her brothers' in the air. And when it's just the two sisters, Maggie leans back against the wall behind her, putting her elbows up along the edge and lazily kicks her legs. Beth dips herself down until the water covers her shoulders.

"So why are you saving your money?" Maggie asks.

She doesn't think the words Beth has said are out of the ordinary. Beth and Daryl are _always_ saving their money. He's a mechanic at a garage in a small town and Beth works at a daycare center. They don't make a lot of money to begin with and then add three kids to that, well, Beth and Daryl clip coupons and shop sales and Beth is meticulous in counting their pennies.

When they had officially adopted Luke, they began receiving monthly checks from the government – a "reward" for adopting since it's such an expensive process, but Beth and Daryl don't touch that money. They have a separate savings account and put the money straight into there each month. They're saving it for perhaps a vacation, but mainly, they want to keep it for Luke so he can go off to college one day.

"We found a house and we really want it," Beth then says, rather bluntly, which, Maggie admits, is surprising. She had been expecting Beth to skirt around the question for a bit longer. "And it's not an expensive house, but it needs a lot of work. _A lot_. So we're both working as much overtime as we can to get us a little bit more money for renovations."

Maggie thinks that over for a moment. "Why don't you just try to find another house that _doesn't_ need a lot of work?" She wonders.

Beth shakes her head at that though. "No, it's this house. It's absolutely perfect. Or, rather, it will be. Daryl and I talk about it every night before we go to be. We have all of these plans for it already… it has to be this house."

"Mama!" Hunter yells and then dramatically dunks himself beneath the water's surface. "Abby's trying to kill me!"

And Abby, being held by Luke, just giggles as Luke pretends to drop Abby down onto Hunter.

"Don't drown, Hunter," is all Beth says before looking back to Maggie. She sighs. "So right now, there's a lot of peanut butter sandwiches and tuna and rice in our diets, but we're almost there."

Maggie can't help, but frown at that. "How much more do you need? Glenn and I can-"

"Absolutely not," Beth gives her a fierce frown as she rapidly shakes her head.

And Maggie's not surprised. Not in the least. Beth may have been born a Greene, but she's all Dixon now and Dixon's never, _never_ ask for money. It had taken a lot for Daryl to accept the monthly check on Luke's behalf and it still made him so uncomfortable, he always had Beth deal with it; as if he didn't want to dirty himself just by looking at it.

"What house is it? Is it in town?"

Beth smiles – as if just thinking about the house makes her smile – and nods. "Do you know that field on County Road 7? The field that's in between the break of the woods?"

Maggie thinks for a moment. Yes, she knows the road. She takes it to get to Daryl and Beth's house in the woods. And yes, she knows the field. She even knows the house, too. Some ramshackle former white farmhouse with broken windows and hardly a roof and… and… Beth is _smiling_ right now.

"No," Maggie whispers. "Are you out of your mind?" She then asks – demands – in a louder voice. "That? _That_ is the house you want to buy? What the hell are you two thinking?"

Nothing. They are thinking nothing. That's the answer. In fact, they're not even thinking right now.

No wonder Beth and Daryl are working so much right now to try and save their money. They could buy _two_ houses for all of the money that money-pit house is going to suck out of them.

"Seriously?" Maggie then asks and Beth giggles a little, bringing herself backwards and after a moment of redistributing her weight, she floats on her back, looking up at the picture-perfect, cloudless blue sky above them that early afternoon.

Maggie's reaction isn't surprising to Beth at all and actually, it would have been surprising if Maggie _hadn't_ reacted like this. No matter how much Maggie swears it's not true, everyone else in the family knows the truth. Maggie can be a bit of a drama queen and Beth knew that as soon as her older sister found out that she and Daryl are trying to buy the old farmhouse, Maggie would act as if it is the biggest disaster of a mistake to ever befall upon Beth's mind.

Beth wonders if she feels like buying the farmhouse or marrying Daryl Dixon is worse in Maggie's opinion. After she married Daryl, the two sisters didn't speak to one another for nearly two years. Beth can't imagine Maggie not talking to her because of a _house_ , of all things, but knowing Maggie… one could never tell with her, actually.

"Daddy!" Hunter then exclaims and Beth drops forward again and sees Daryl coming in through the back gate. He must have changed in the garage's bathroom because now, he wears swimming trunks and a white tee-shirt.

It took six years of marriage, but she's finally gotten him into a pair of swimming trunks. Beth wants to giggle happily at that, but she won't dare.

"Hey, guys," Daryl smiles at the kids and then he moves his eyes so they lock with Beth's.

She smiles and swims to the stairs, pulling herself up and out of the pool. The water rushes off of her as she walks towards him and he meets her halfway. She swears she can hear Maggie, still in the pool, muttering to herself. Something about being idiots. Beth nearly rolls her eyes. Instead, she looks up at Daryl and keeps smiling.

"Hi," she greets him as if he's the best thing she's ever seen.

"Hey," Daryl says and then drops his head down and pressing his lips to hers in a short kiss. "Glad we're hangin' out in your sister's backyard today."

Beth smiles, knowing exactly what he's getting at. "Oh, yeah? Why would that be?"

"You're wearing somethin' the width of duct tape wrapped 'round you," Daryl tells her and Beth laughs at that, not able to help herself.

"Don't you like it? I bought it for you because I thought you would like it," she says, only partially still teasing him. "I know how much you love green."

"Didn' say I didn' like it," he points out to her before he is kissing her again and Beth can't help, but smile against his lips as her arms lift to wrap around his shoulders.

"Dad!" Luke exclaims, breaking their lips apart as both turn their heads to look at their son, his arms folded on the concrete edge along the pool, his legs kicking behind him. "Get in already."

"Yeah, hold on," Daryl gives a nod and then looks to Beth. "Got a lot of overtime pay today. Dale asked if I'm tryin' to rob 'im blind."

"Not really robbing him if he's the one handing you the money," Beth smiles and she then tightens her arms around him. "A mom from the daycare center called me after you already left this morning. She wants to sign her daughter up for piano lessons."

Daryl matches her smile with his own and he kisses her again.

"Alright. Knock it off," Maggie says, coming up to them, neither having noticed that she had pulled herself out of the pool. "Glenn and I have been married less time than you and we have left the newlywed stage a long time ago. Don't you think you should, too?" She asks them with arms crossed over her chest and a raised eyebrow.

"No," Beth answers at the same time Daryl says, "Nah."

Maggie rolls her eyes at them both.

"Dad-dy!" Hunter now whines from the pool.

"Alright. I'm comin'!" Daryl shouts to them and then reaches into the pocket of his trunks.

He pulls out a think wad of rolled up bills held together with a rubber band – Dale likes to pay overtime in cash, which is more than fine with Daryl, who usually is the guy at the garage who works the most overtime of any of them – and holds it up for Beth to see.

"Drug money?" She jokes, taking it with a smile.

"House fund," he says as if she hadn't known otherwise.

And with that, he takes a step back from her and tugs his shirt off over his chest. Being in the privacy of his sister-in-law's backyard with just his family around is the only reason he would ever think to take his shirt off and reveal his bare torso.

"Figured we could deposit it in the bank on the way home today and see how much more we got to go," Daryl tells her.

"Sounds like a plan," Beth beams and holds the money close to her chest; over her heart.

"Damn it, Dixon!" Glenn suddenly appears in the doorway of the back sliding door, holding a pizza box in his hands. "You already got your shirt off?"

Daryl just smirks at his brother-in-law and then goes to slip into the pool with the three kids. Beth smiles as she watches him pick Hunter up and the boy screaming with delight as Daryl gently tosses him towards the deeper end.

"Don't worry about it, Glenn," Maggie assures her husband as he steps fully out onto the patio and sets the pizza box down onto the table. "You can take your shirt off, too. We won't judge."

" _I'm_ going to judge," Glenn tells her with a frown.

Daryl might have the tiniest of pudges in his stomach area, but his arms… goodness, just thinking about his arms right now, Beth feels her mouth starting to salivate. Not to mention that because he spends so much time outside, he's extremely tan. Glenn is pale and thin and more than once, he's told Daryl that he's responsible for his low self-esteem.

Taking the roll of cash, Beth safely tucks it into the diaper bag beneath the few diapers that she has brought for Abby and she can feel Maggie's eyes on her. Sure enough, when she lifts her head, Maggie staring right back at her with a frown.

"What?" Beth asks sweetly.

"I'm going to get my laptop and we are going to start researching the real estate websites," Maggie informs her. "We are finding you _another_ house."

And with that, Maggie turns and goes into the house.

"You're looking for a house?" Glenn asks after he peels off his tee-shirt and tosses it onto a chair.

Beth just smiles and shakes her head and looks back to the pool. Hunter and Luke are clambering all over Daryl, wanting him to toss each of them again, and Daryl has picked Abby out from her pool float and holds her safely in his arms.

"No," Beth answers. "We've already found one."

…

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 **Thank you very much for reading and please take a moment to review!**


	19. Bump

…

"Daddy!" Lucy screams from the bottom of the stairs and it's not as if Daryl is ignoring his daughter; he just has something else to see to right this second.

Beth is lying in their bed, buried on her side beneath the goose-down comforter and he thinks she is sleeping, but when Daryl comes around to her side of the bed – she sleeps on the side nearer to the window so he can take the spot closer to the door – and he sits down on the edge, he sees that even though her eyes are closed, she's awake and she opens them as soon as she feels him sitting down.

"Hi," she gives him a soft smile.

"How you feelin'?" He asks.

"I'm okay. The heating pad is working wonders." She then pulls back the comforter so he can see the heating pad that she is holding to her lower abdomen. "I have no idea what it is though. I've never gotten cramps this bad before."

"Daddy!" Lucy screams again.

Daryl keeps looking at Beth. "And you sure 's jus' cramps?" He asks and swallows.

"What else could it be?" Beth asks him with the tiniest smile.

"Another baby," Daryl shrugs even though he really has no idea.

He just always gets himself all nervous when Beth is feeling anything less than perfect. And she's right. They've been together for three years now and except the months she was pregnant with Holly, Daryl's never known her to get cramps that keep her in bed with pain. So why are they so awful for her this month?

"Just what we need," Beth says, smiling easier now.

"Dad-dy!" Lucy screams and then they hear her bare feet coming up the stairs.

Beth laughs as Daryl instantly slips down from the bed and crouches down next to it just as their three-year-old daughter bursts into the bedroom.

Beth sits up a little, keeping the heating pad in place. "Hi, Dot. What are you up to?"

"Where's daddy?" Lucy asks in a demanding voice as much as toddler can have.

"I'm not sure, baby," Beth says, keeping the smile from her face even as she, from the corner of her eye, can see Daryl trying to crouch even lower without making noise.

"I need daddy," Lucy says, pouting now, her lower lip jutted out as it always did when she was pouting and Lucy is at the age where if she isn't pouting, she's having a tantrum over one thing or another. The joys of having a toddler.

"Why do you need daddy?" Beth asks as Lucy pulls herself up onto the bed, Beth leaning over to help her.

"He promised me movie," she answers, her lower lip still out. "But he's gone."

"I don't think he's gone, baby. He's just probably doing something else right now." Beth reaches a finger out and lightly tickles the underside of Lucy's chin, drawing a reluctant giggle from the girl. Beth smiles. "I can put a movie on for you," she then says and begins to push the comforter down from her body.

"No, mama!" Lucy immediately explains and grabs hold of her arm. "You stay in bed. Daddy said. Your tummy hurts."

Beth wants to smile, but she rolls her eyes instead. "Your daddy is just being silly," she informs their daughter and she doesn't have to look at Daryl to know that he's probably frowning at her for that. "Where's your sister?" She then asks Lucy.

Lucy wrinkles her nose. "Holly smells like poop."

And then, as if confirming that, a baby's cries break out from downstairs.

But just as Beth begins to swing her legs out of the bed, Daryl pops up and Lucy's eyes widen in surprise.

"Daddy?" She asks as if she isn't sure it's actually him. "What are you doing?"

"Hidin'," Daryl answers truthfully and standing up, he leans over and swoops Lucy up into his arms. He then looks to Beth. "You keep stayin' in bed," he tells her and Beth rolls her eyes and opens her mouth to respond to that, but he's already carrying Lucy from their bedroom and heading back downstairs.

Holly is still crying and Lucy is chattering about all of the movies she wants to watch and Beth feels guilty for staying in bed. They are just cramps. There's no reason to stay up in their bed as if she's an invalid. She doesn't care what Daryl says. She'll go downstairs and eat some chocolate and pop some more Advil and she'll be fine.

The heating pad really has helped anyway. She can take it downstairs with her and lie on the couch with it. That way, she could still be with him and the girls and not be up in bed, feeling completely useless. She loves Daryl, but he has a tendency to baby her – which can sometimes be wonderful, and other times, be infuriating.

She knows she's lucky to have him though. She never lets herself forget that.

Mind made up, Beth pushes the comforter off of her and unplugs the heating pad. She pulls herself from bed and grunts a little as she stretches. It's Saturday and this is always their weekly grocery shopping trip, but today, Beth might volunteer to stay home with the girls and just give Daryl a list for him to handle it on his own. Or maybe, after more Advil and chocolate, she'll feel good enough to go with him.

Downstairs, four-month-Holly had been on the floor in their living room, in her activity pin, and Daryl had moved that out of the way now, grabbing a diaper they kept in the downstairs bathroom and is now kneeling in front of her, changing her into a clean diaper. Lucy is standing next to him, watching over his actions carefully to make sure he does it right. Holly is quiet now, looking up at Daryl and sucking on the pacifier Daryl has returned to between her lips.

The stairs are quiet and Daryl is preoccupied with Holly and Beth is allowed to take the moment to look at her husband and their girls. She loves watching Daryl with Lucy and Holly when he doesn't know she's watching. Lucy looks like her – blonde hair, blue eyes, pale pink lips and pale skin. Holly seems like she will look like that, too. What hair she has, it is already blonde, her eyes have stayed blue and she looks just like Lucy had looked when Lucy was a baby.

Daryl is a blue-collar man all the way through. He is the maintenance manager at several apartment buildings and works on restoring and flipping old homes. He works with his hands every single day and his skin might be rough on account of it, but any touch he has for his wife and daughters is nothing, but gentle. He always handles them as if they're all the finest pieces of fine bone china to ever be held.

He loves Lucy and Holly – and Beth – more than anything and Beth knows that. But she always knows that while Daryl thinks their daughters are better than the sun, he probably would like a little boy, too. Hopefully, he doesn't mind waiting a couple more years before having another baby. These cramps are terrible, but they're nothing compared to labor and Beth just isn't ready to do that all over again yet.

Finished, Daryl picks up Holly's dirty diaper and looks to Lucy. "Want to take this out for me?" He asks.

"No, daddy!" Lucy screams and runs away, jumping up onto the couch. Their cat, Lemon, had been sleeping there and at the jostle of the cushions, the yellow cat lifts his head and gives a look of displeasure towards Lucy. "Ewwwww!"

Daryl snickers and then sets the diaper down so he can hoist Holly up in his arms, holding her in one arm and giving her a kiss on the cheek before standing up, holding the dirty diaper in his other hand.

He finally spots Beth standing on the bottom step. "What the hell you doin' here?"

"I live here," she smiles at his frown and steps down the rest of the way. "I needed chocolate," she then says when Daryl just keeps frowning at her.

Lucy stands up on the couch cushions. "Me, too!" She exclaims.

"No, Dot," Beth shakes her head. "You'll ruin your appetite for lunch."

"I want chocolate!" Lucy shouts as if Beth hasn't said anything at all.

Beth realizes she never should have said the "c" word in front of a three-year-old. Amateur mistake. Daryl is looking at her and she knows he is thinking the same thing because he has the tiniest smirk across his lips and one raised eyebrow.

Beth lets out a sigh. "Alright. _One_ piece, Lucy," she concedes.

"Yay!" Lucy exclaims, her voice echoing in the room, and she leaps down from the couch, Lemon giving her another look, and she races into the kitchen.

"I could 'ave brought you chocolate," Daryl says as Beth walks to him and takes Holly into her arms from his.

Beth gives him a smile and shakes her head. "I can't stay upstairs, in bed, while I'm listening to you, down here, dealing with them on your own."

Daryl shrugs at that. "They're mine, too. Don't mind dealin' with 'em."

Beth smiles at that, but doesn't say anything as she carries Holly into the kitchen and Daryl follows behind, heading out into the garage to throw the dirty diaper away.

She doesn't explain it to him because she knows that he wouldn't understand. She listens to the women guards at the jail or when she goes to the Sheriff's station and listens to the other women there or even going to lunch with Lori and Michonne, listening to them complain about their husbands, Shane and Rick; how the men in their lives never seem to help with the children – and when they do, they don't actually help and just create more problems or work – or with the house work and how it frustrates them and infuriates them.

They'll then look to Beth, ready for her to complain, too, about Daryl, but the thing is that Beth can hardly find reason to. Daryl's not perfect. Of course he isn't. But the thing is, he _tries_ to be – for both her and their daughters. He works hard every day and then comes home and continues to work; helping her with the babies and things that have to be done around the house.

Yes, she hates when he leaves his boots on the floor at the foot of the bed and she trips over them on her way to the bathroom or when he's working in the garage and comes into the kitchen, forgetting to wash his hands of oil and grease before he starts touching things, but those are small things she has learned to live with.

She understands that sometimes, wives just need to vent about their husbands and vice versa. She knows her mama does it about her daddy and Beth knows she's not perfect. She's sure she does some things that aggravate Daryl, even though he has never let on about anything of the sort.

In the kitchen, Lucy is standing on her tip toes, as if she will be able to reach the cabinet on her own. Beth smiles a little and goes to set Holly down in her bouncer on the kitchen table, giving the baby a kiss on the head, and she then goes to Lucy. She opens the cabinet next to the stove and takes out a plastic container, making sure that it's the right one. She keeps two containers next in this particular cabinet: one filled with baking chocolate and the other filled with, what Daryl calls, her monthly chocolate supplies. Beth takes a Hershey bar from that container and can't help, but laugh as Lucy begins bouncing up and down with excitement.

"Remember, Dot," Beth says as she unwraps the chocolate bar and breaks off one of the rectangular pieces. "I said one piece."

Lucy eagerly takes it and pops it into her mouth. Beth will have to teach her about savoring it when she's a bit older.

"More!" The little girl then says, sticking her hand out and clasping and unclasping her fingers closed as she looks up at Beth with wide mirror-image eyes.

"I said one piece, Lucy," Beth says, holding up one finger. "One."

"Mama!" Lucy immediately begins to whine. "That's a piece!" She then points to the remaining chocolate bar on the counter.

"Nice try," Beth smiles at her and then pops her own piece into her mouth.

And immediately, Lucy's lower lip pops out as she frowns up at Beth. Beth just looks down at her with a raised eyebrow and doesn't say anything more. Lucy gives a huff and then with her arms crossed over her chest, she plops down on the kitchen floor right where she's standing. Beth breaks off another piece of chocolate for herself.

Daryl closes the garage door and comes in through the laundry room, stepping into the kitchen. He sees Lucy sitting on the floor with her – what is becoming usual – pout on her face and it doesn't take a genius to figure out that Lucy had had her piece of chocolate and Beth hadn't given her another one when she asked for it. Anyone could have seen that coming.

Beth is leaning against the counter, chewing on her chocolate, and she looks to Daryl with a smile. She's resting her other hand on her lower abdomen and he wonders if she even realizes that she's doing that.

"How 'bout you make up a list for me and I'll go to Aldi?" He suggests.

Beth finishes chewing and then gives him a smile he can describe only as relieved.

"Are you sure you don't mind?" She asks.

Daryl can't help, but smirk a little. "Been grocery shoppin' plenty of times without you, girl," he points out to her and goes to the sink next to her to wash his hands.

"Yes, but we can't live on white bread, peanut butter and bologna," she teases him, leaning into him a little, breaking off another piece of chocolate.

"'s only because you're spoilin' these girls," he tells her, drying his hands on the dishtowel and then taking a piece of the chocolate for himself, and Beth is smiling. She leans in and her lips brush across the corner of his jaw.

"Can I come shopping, too, daddy?" Lucy speaks up, looking hopeful.

Beth and Daryl look at one another and then down at Lucy, still sitting on the floor.

Daryl doesn't mind taking her – especially since he wants Beth to take it easy today; whether she actually will or not, he has no idea. But it's not even eleven o'clock yet and Lucy's already in one of her moods. It's hard to know what will set her off. No, not just hard. Damn near impossible. Their three-year-old loves to stick her lip out and pout over just about everything or she bursts into tears at the drop of a hat or their personal favorite. She'll just drop to the ground and sit there and refuse to get up and if they did pick her up, she proceeded to scream bloody murder.

Daryl loves Lucy more than air, but he just doesn't know if he wants to take her grocery shopping with him today; especially on a Saturday when everyone in town, it seems, is doing their grocery shopping, too.

Daryl glances once more at Beth and then crouches down in front of her. "'m actually gonna need you to stay here today, Dot. Need you to look after your mama for me. She's not feelin' well today and you're the only one I trust to do it."

That makes Lucy's chest puff out. "I can do it!" She exclaims and putting her hands on the floor, she pushes herself up to her feet. "Daddy, I take care of mama for you."

"I know you can," he gives her a little smile. She begins hopping on her toes with excitement over such a big-girl responsibility. "And I'll buy you cheese puffs from the store," he is quick to promise her.

Lucy stops hopping and her eyes widen. "Cheese puffs," she whispers reverently. She spins quickly to Beth. "Mama, you have to go to bed!" She exclaims and grabs Beth's hand, beginning to tug on it as if she has the strength to pull her.

"Hold on, Dot," Beth says with a slight laugh. "I'm going to be lying on the couch."

And with that, Lucy runs out of the room and back into the living room. They can hear her grunting and without having to look, they know she is dragging every pillow and blanket in the room, loading it onto their L-shaped couch for Beth.

Daryl stands up again and Beth smiles at him as she chews on another piece of chocolate. Without a word, she breaks off a rectangle and offers it to him. Daryl opens his mouth and she giggles as she places it gently between his lips. He steps in closer to her and his hands slide onto the counter on either side of her, promptly boxing her body in.

"She is _just_ like you," Beth says quietly as if she's telling a secret that isn't meant to be overheard by anyone else.

And it doesn't matter if this isn't the first time Beth has said those words to him. Daryl cracks a small smile as if they are some of the best words he has ever heard. And they are. They really are.

He knows he worries about it though he knows he really shouldn't. It is something he has absolutely no control over it. But he knows Beth thinks about it. Maybe not worry – exactly – but he knows she does think about it. They both sometimes will look at Lucy and have thoughts of Lucy's real dad. Beth never calls the man that. She never calls him anything at all and Daryl usually just refers to the guy as a sperm donor because really, that's all that guy was and will ever be.

Daryl knows that he's Lucy's dad in every way that that word can mean, but he still can't help, but worry that she won't be like him at all; that as she keeps growing up, she'll be more and more like the sperm donor and nothing like him.

But then Beth says something like that and it's always the same reaction.

He feels like his chest is exploding with warmth because _that_ girl out there is _his_.

"Mama!" Lucy shouts. "The couch needs you!"

Beth can't help, but smile while trying to give Daryl a stern look, but he just smirks and leans in, inhaling her scent and then kissing the side of her throat.

"Take your Advil and get your heatin' pad and 'm gonna make sure you stay on that couch," he speaks against her skin, making her nearly shiver. "If you get up from that couch, 'm gonna make sure that Lucy tells on you."

Holly, quiet in her bouncer this whole time, cracks out into a cry now as if wanting to remind her parents that she's still in the room.

Beth laughs softly. "After I feed that one, I will obey. _Just_ for today," she's quick to add. Daryl smirks and kisses the side of her throat again before dropping his arm and Beth is able to slip away from him, going to the table to pick crying Holly up. "Oh. Before I forget," Beth turns back towards him. "I want to wait a couple of years before we have another baby."

They've never actually talked about having a third baby, but sometimes, they find themselves to both be on the same exact page in regards to certain things without ever having to discuss them at all.

Daryl's getting a bottle of breast milk from the refrigerator and then goes to get a saucepan from the cabinet to heat it up in on the stove. Holly is still crying even as Beth hushes her and bounces her gently in her arms, trying to comfort her. Not wanting to wait for the bottle to warm, Beth sits down at the table, lifts her shirt, lowers her bra and Holly immediately latches to her nipple.

"Mama!" Lucy shouts from the living room again.

"A couple years?" Daryl looks to Beth. "Hell, I was thinkin' at least ten."

…

* * *

 **Hope you liked it. Thank you very much for reading and please take a moment to review!**


	20. A New Day - Blue Ridge

"Bee?"

Rosita knocked on the partially open bedroom door while poking her head in, seeing her daughter sitting on her bed, staring down at something in her hands.

"Hey," she said softly, knowing her daughter more than well enough to know that right now, Bee had the face of a young girl in deep thought. "Lunch is almost ready and I need help with Teddy and setting the table."

Bee nodded, but still didn't say anything. Rosita came to sit beside her and she saw that Bee was holding the tape cassette in her hands, staring down at it. Rosita didn't smile and she pursed her lips to make sure that one didn't break through. Bee had been staring at this tape since she had brought it home with her two days earlier, having found it while out on a run with her dad.

It hadn't been a big run or anything. Mostly just Spencer heading a bit further up the mountain – they tended not to venture upwards too much – and Bee coming with him. There had been a house and that house had had a greenhouse in the backyard. Kudzu had taken over the house and a tree was now growing through the roof, but the greenhouse remained maintained because when they found it years earlier, they knew it would be nothing, but important to them. They were able to grow herbs and flowers within the warm glass walls all year and on that cool fall morning, Spencer and Bee had taken the familiar path upwards for a mile to collect basil and oregano for the tomato sauce Beth was going to be making for dinner that night – a definite treat because even though they always had tomatoes coming out of their ears, she didn't make the sauce often.

And as they walked home, Bee had asked if they could stop at the Fitzhugh house and Spencer hadn't seen any reason why they couldn't. When all of the children were much younger and Mulligan had still been here, he had told them the story of the Fitzhugh house and how there was a story that apparently, the last living Fitzhugh man apparently had had some hidden Confederate gold buried in the floorboards that the Fitzhugh men had stolen from the Union back in the days of the Civil War.

The adults knew that Mulligan was just telling stories, but of all of the stories Mulligan had told them of these mountains, that was one of their favorites and even now, years later, whenever they walked past the Fitzhugh house, they asked to go inside the house – rotting and falling down around them – to look through a wall or pull up a floorboard that they hadn't looked through yet.

But this time, after pulling up a few floorboards in the stairs – no gold this time either – Bee found something else, buried beneath years of dirt and leaves that had blown in through the glassless windows. A cassette tape and Bee had taken it without thought. Though they had no way of playing these, she knew that Eli would want it. He collected them and had a box beneath his bed of all of the cassette tapes he had found ever since he began taking one whenever he found it.

Rosita smiled now and brushed back a stray strand of her daughter's dark hair that had fallen from the braid it was pulled back in. She still sometimes couldn't believe that Bee was already nine – just a month away from ten already. Even though there had been babies born after her, everyone still called Bee, "Baby Bee", more times than not. It was her nickname and there was just something about her. Bee was smart – brilliant, as Spencer like to boast – and brave and fierce; all of the things everyone in her life had taught her to be.

But despite all of that, she was their Baby Bee. She'd probably be thirty and still Baby Bee. Despite the walkers she killed or the face she never made in disgust when she had to clean up the animal manure, she still loved pink and wearing her headband with two cat-ears nearly every day and dancing around the room to the family's – now extensive – record collection.

The world they lived in wasn't a kind one and the life they all lived wasn't an easy one, but in all of that, Bee was still just a young girl.

A young girl with a crush.

At first, when Bee had come to Rosita and told her that her stomach felt funny, Rosita had nearly immediately began to panic, but it was Spencer who was the voice of calm and asked Bee to tell them exactly how it felt "funny".

"It's not all of the time," Bee told her parents. "Only sometimes. I was at the creek with Eli and we were picking dandelions to bring back with us and it started hurting then. And then, during our lessons, Eli was talking about Ancient Egypt and it started feeling funny again. And yesterday, Eli…" she continued telling them and it didn't take Spencer and Rosita any time at all to figure out that Bee's stomach only seemed to feel funny when Eli Dixon was around.

"Do you think he'll like this one?" Bee now asked, turning her head and looking up to Rosita.

Rosita smiled. "I think he'll love it. It's a great one," she assured her.

Bee went back to staring down at the cassette. She remained quiet for a moment. "What if he doesn't like it though?"

Rosita slipped her arm around her shoulders. "Then he's an idiot," she said.

Bee shook her head at that though. "I think he's wonderful," her words were quiet; almost a whisper and Rosita smiled faintly while also trying to remember how old she had been when she had gotten her first crush on a boy.

Had she been nine, too? Or was that too young? She wondered if no matter how old Bee was with her first crush if Rosita would still think she was too young. She was her Baby Bee after all.

With the cassette tape clutched between her hands, both Bee and Rosita left the bedroom and headed down the stairs into the kitchen. Jack and Cecily, the twins, were now five and Cecily was in the middle of chasing her brother around the table, both shrieking and laughing with delight. Three-year-old Carrie, Matt and Anna's daughter, was sitting in a chair, eating from a bowl of blueberries on the table in front of her, popping one at a time into her mouth as she watched Jack and Cecily.

Beth stood at the wood-burning stove in the middle of the kitchen, stirring the thick carrot soup she had made for lunch that day, tasting a little before adding the smallest amount of salt, the stirring never stopping. Beth turned her head and smiled when she saw them.

"Hey, Bee, can you get the bowls?" She asked.

Bee nodded and went to go collect the bowls from the shelf on the wall, looking out the back door as she did. Rosita went to collect the one-year-old baby boy from the high chair at the table, the baby currently gnawing on the long tail of a stuffed cat. Teddy Espinosa-Monroe was a complete surprise, of course, but that didn't mean he wasn't wanted and he wasn't loved.

Rosita lifted her son up now, smiling, and kissed his cheek and Teddy gave her a slobbery smile with the few teeth that he had now.

As Bee was putting down the bowls down on the table, looking out the back door every few seconds, she then gasped, and set the bowls down as quickly and carefully down on the table before tearing out of the cabin.

Both Beth and Rosita looked to see what had caused Bee's reaction. It was Eli, coming back into the yard, with the fishing pole over his shoulder and three fish hanging in his hand. Beth and Rosita then looked at one another and smiled.

"So adorable," Beth said before bringing up the spoon to take another taste test of soup and Rosita smiled in agreement before looking out the door to watch.

She just hoped that now or years from now, Eli didn't break her daughter's heart.

Eli Dixon was twelve years old and when he had been a little boy, he had had the look of his mom: Beth's lighter hair and paler skin. But as he got older, he began looking more and more like his dad. Outside constantly, his skin was tanned and he was only twelve, but he was already starting to develop muscles from the hard, demanding work of the farm. His hair was nearly black, but unlike Daryl's, there were curls to it – more obvious when it was wet or when he was sweaty. Beth had said that her older brother, Shawn, had had slightly curly hair just like that and that always made Eli so proud; that he was like his uncle in any way.

"Hi, Eli," Bee said, slightly breathless.

"Hey, Bee," Eli smiled at her and Bee's stomach instantly clenched. "Is lunch ready? Check it out." He then held the fish up that he had caught. "I'm thinking we can fry 'em up over the fire tonight for dinner."

"That sounds great!" She agreed happily. "I found you something and I think you would like it."

With that, she produced the cassette tape and held it out for him to take. Eli's smile doubled.

"Awesome!" He took it from her. "Whitney Houston."

"My mom said she was wonderful," Bee said, watching him as he looked over the cassette.

She felt nervous and anxious for some reason; as if she was waiting for something, but for what, she has absolutely no idea. She knew she was probably still too young to know.

"Awesome," Eli said, looking back to her, giving her another smile. "Thanks for this, Baby Bee."

And with that, Eli went past her to take the fish into the cabin to show his mom.

Bee kept standing where she was though, her stomach still clenched, but now, she also felt a sinking inside of her that she didn't understand. Whatever it was that she had been waiting for, no matter how old – or young – she was, Bee knew that that wasn't it.

…

* * *

 **This idea has been in my head and I had to get it out. I hope you like it. Thank you for reading and please take a moment to review!**


	21. House Call V

…

Hunter looked at the new person sitting at their dining room table that evening, eating the rabbit stew and fresh cornbread as if he hadn't eaten in days. He was about as old as his dad with dark hair buzzed close to his scalp and a scar running along the right line of his jaw. He was lean but muscular and if Hunter didn't know that dad didn't have another brother, he would have thought that this man was the third Dixon.

"What were you in prison for?" Hunter broke the silence, watching the way the man's spoon stopped in mid-air on the way to his mouth.

"Hunter," Beth said with a slight frown. "Be polite."

Hunter looked at her, confused. How was that not being polite?

If a person didn't like being asked that question, they shouldn't go to prison in the first place.

"It's alright," the man, Ray Dixon, said. He then looked to Hunter. "I didn' have any money, so I went and broke into a car lot and stole a bunch of tires." Unbeknownst to Hunter, there also had been possession of drugs involved with intent to sell, but the kids didn't need to know that.

"That was stupid," Hunter immediately replied, Luke smothering a snicker into his hand.

"Hunter," Daryl said this time.

"What?" Hunter looked at him, confused.

"Nah, it's alright," Ray said. "It was stupid," he agreed.

"Why didn't you just get a job?" Hunter continued with his line of questions.

Ray shrugged. "Dixons don't like workin' that much."

"Our dad works," Hunter pointed out to him. "He works _a lot_."

"I don't work that much," Daryl frowned a little.

"Your dad's always been different from the rest of the Dixons," Ray told Hunter.

"That does remind me though," Beth spoke up. She picked up the plate of cornbread when she saw Abby finish her first slice and knowing that the girl would want another one, she passed it to Luke so he could give her one. "You _are_ expected to find a job now," she said to Ray.

"Wasn' under the assumption that people just give jobs to people like me," Ray commented.

"Well, you have our address down with your parole office so we're in charge of you and we are going to find you a job," Beth said firmly with little room for argument.

Ray, unsure of how to respond, looked to Daryl as if for help, but Daryl just smirked a little and got up to go into the kitchen to get the kids more milk. Ray had no idea how his cousin was able to stand any type of ground with this woman as his wife. He had only been here for a couple of hours, but he was quickly learning. Beth may have looked like a little thing, but there was no room to wonder who really ran this house. And Ray couldn't blame Daryl for seeming to be incapable of anything else. It'd be hard to have any semblance of balls with Beth Dixon around, smiling her sweet smiles.

Ray shifted in his chair and lowered his eyes to his plate of food, feeling like an asshole for thinking about his cousin's wife's smiles.

"How are you a Dixon?" Hunter was back to asking his questions.

Ray looked at the boy sitting across from him. He had the look of his mom to him. The lighter hair and the smile that seemed to engulf his entire face beam and made the corners of his eyes crinkle. But his eyes were Daryl's – that watery blue that sometimes looked green in a particular kind of light. And he had that mischievous spark to them that all Dixon men seemed to have.

"My dad and your dad's dad were brothers," Ray explained. "Me and your dad are cousins."

Hunter was quiet for a moment, shoving another forkful of rabbit stew into his mouth, and he thought that over as he chewed, his eyes never leaving Ray. Daryl returned with the carton of milk, filling the three kids' cups up again before heading back into the kitchen.

"Grandpa Will Dixon was a piece of shit," Hunter stated once he had swallowed.

Ray's eyes flicked over to Beth, expecting her to immediately admonish her son for saying that, but the woman – surprisingly – stayed quiet. Ray swallowed thickly and gave Hunter a nod.

"He was. My dad was, too," Ray informed him.

He felt eyes heavy on him and he turned his head to see both Luke and Abby looking at him. They were both quiet, unlike their brother – Abby because she didn't hear and Luke because, well, because Ray had only known the kid for a couple of hours now, but Ray recognized the look. He supposed it took one to know one.

Luke had had his own pieces of shit in his life before becoming a Dixon.

He lifted his eyes up when Daryl came back into the dining room from the kitchen and sat down once more in his seat. Ray knew that the man had heard everything. If Daryl had one thing, it was the sharp hearing of a bat. That was why he was always such a much better hunter than Merle or Ray could ever hope to be. That and Merle and Ray were usually too drunk or too high or just didn't care that much to be all that quiet while out in the woods. Not like Daryl.

And even though he had heard, Daryl didn't say anything about Hunter's language either.

"I know all about him," Hunter said and then paused to lift his cup with both hands and took a long gulp of milk.

"You do?" Ray couldn't help, but be surprised at that.

When they were growing up, more than one of his and Merle's friends had thought that Daryl was a mute for as little as he talked. And for him to talk about his old man? Daryl would have sooner actually gotten his tongue cut out than for Will Dixon's name to ever leave his mouth, let alone have that man on his brain.

"Dad told us," Luke was the one to answer.

Ray just looked to Daryl as if waiting for him to explain himself. Because the Daryl he knew? He never would have talked to anyone about anything.

But that was the whole point, wasn't it? Daryl wasn't the Daryl he knew anymore. He was a man with a beautiful wife and children and he had built this whole house, for god's sake, and it was the nicest house he had ever seen – especially for someone with the name Dixon to own.

He saw the way Daryl's hand lingered on Beth's back as he had helped her carry the dishes from the kitchen to the table when dinner was served or the way his lips ghosted across Beth's temple when he thought no one was looking and the way Beth just absolutely beamed up at him. Ray was a man in his forties and had actually never seen a relationship – a marriage – like the one in front of him. One that was _good_. One that was good and had produced these kids who were obviously healthy and happy and _safe_.

Daryl just looked to Ray and shrugged and didn't say anything.

"Are you a piece of shit, too?" Hunter asked.

"Hunter," Beth said this time with a slight frown that she didn't seem to actually mean.

"Nah, he's not," Daryl answered for him before Ray could. "He's the other kind of Dixon I was tellin' you kids about."

"Oh," Hunter said knowingly and then gave a nod, giving a wide grin to Ray.

Ray looked to everyone's face at the table and they were all smiling – or at least, trying to hide their smiles. Even little Abby was smiling at him as if this was the greatest inside joke to ever be had at someone's expense.

Beth was the one to finally take pity on his confusion. "You're a stupid piece of shit," she informed him and Daryl snorted from his chair next to Ray's, but he remained quiet.

…

* * *

 **Writing this couple constantly for the past couple of years, I have become a bit brain dead when it comes to them and I have really been struggling for any kind of inspiration. I'm not sure what that means, but I don't want to just leave everyone in a lurch without letting them know what was going on. Hopefully, Beth and Daryl have not left completely just yet. I love them and I don't want to be done.**


	22. Not a Bad Thing - The Interview

…

Daryl Dixon stares blankly at his computer screen, trying to remember the previous instructions his wife had given him of how to do this. And he thought that he had done exactly what she had said to do, but he's staring at a black grainy screen because it's not working and why the hell isn't it working?

He jumps slightly when his computer starts making a ringing sound and he instantly swipes to hit the accept button and the top of the window.

"Thank Christ," he says before Beth Dixon can even fully appear on the screen. "I still have no idea what the fuck I was doing."

Beth giggles at that, unable to help herself. Her husband is completely inept at all things technologically advanced – no matter how many times she shows him how to do something – and it will never not be adorable to her.

"Well, I think we're making progress," Beth replies, still giggling. "You knew to hit the accept button."

She looks at her husband through the computer's camera and her heart twists almost painfully in her chest. He's so far away right now - a country between them right now. She knew that she would miss him, but she hasn't expected for it to be this much. Her trip has only been a week and she has just a couple more days, but each morning, she wakes up, reaching for him in her hotel bed and each morning, she opens her eyes with disappointment, finding that he's not there.

"How's it goin'?" Daryl interrupts her thoughts.

Beth smiles easily – if only a little sadly. "Good. I interviewed more family today. Got a ton of pictures of the women that they don't mind me using."

"Good," Daryl smiles at that, too, but then grows somber as he looks at her image on the screen. "'m sorry I wasn' able to come with you this time."

Unfortunately, one of the other bartenders at The Pine Cone had gotten surgery and had to stay off his feet for the next few weeks; which meant that Merle was short-handed for the next few weeks; which meant that Daryl had to help his older brother out as much as he could. Going with Beth to Chicago for a research trip just wasn't possible at the moment and Beth wasn't able to reschedule the meetings she had already planned with the families of the victims of Richard Speck.

She shakes her head though, wanting his guilt to stop right in its tracks. "You'll come on the next one," she replies easily, confidently, with a matching easy smile.

Her second book had taken her to Vancouver and her third book has now taken her to Chicago. She already knows that her fourth book will be much closer to home; somewhere she and Daryl can go together. She is not going to go on another of these trips without him. Not only does she appreciate his calming and quiet presence, he makes her feel safe as she takes her photographs. Even though – in some cases – many years have passed since the murders took place, there's still something that still hangs in the air in these areas that make the hairs on the back of Beth's neck stand up.

Daryl is quiet at that and doesn't remark. He just sits on the couch in their living room, his laptop on the coffee table in front of him, and he's staring at her through the screen; studying her. They've been apart for five days. She's coming home in two more. And Daryl has been so busy downstairs in the bar, he hadn't thought that he would have the time to miss her. But he should have known better. This is Beth. Of course he's going to miss her.

They are going on almost four years now – a number that still amazed the hell out of Daryl and he admits, sometimes, he still wakes up in the mornings and looked at her, still sleeping beside him in their bed and he is almost surprised – and confused – that she is still there. He still doesn't know what the hell she ever saw in him to begin with; and still sees in him.

Even if he hadn't served time in prison – even if he isn't considered an ex-con whenever his name is brought up in any kind of system and can never vote again or have a passport – Daryl still isn't much to write about. He is just a bartender and lives in the apartment above the bar his brother and sister-in-law own. He works five, sometimes six, days a week and still attends anger management classes every week though he is off parole now and is no longer ordered by the state of Georgia to go.

Daryl's life is quiet – boring – and that is exactly the way he wants it. If his life isn't anything special, he won't get in trouble ever again. Getting in trouble again isn't an option for him. He has a wife now and though Beth makes far more money than him with her true crime books, it is still his responsibility to take care of her.

But that is just something else he wonders about with Beth. Why the hell is she sticking with him when her own career has taken off and she is doing well with her writing? Why still stay married to an ex-con bartender? He wants to ask her all of the time. She is slumming. She has to know she is.

And yet, still she stays.

Some stupid little website, around the time her second book on Willy Pickton had been released, had found out about his record and had printed a story. _True Crime's Newest Author Has Her Own True Crime_ or some bullshit like that. Not some huge story and it wasn't as if millions upon millions of people read the website, but still. It had bothered him a hell of a lot and he wasn't surprised when Beth had seen it and had simply shrugged before moving onto something else, and _that_ had bothered him because why the hell wasn't there some greater reaction from her about it?

Or had there been and she had just kept it from him?

"Where are you right now?" Beth says and Daryl's eyes snap back into focus, seeing her smiling at him.

"You're beautiful," Daryl hears himself breathe out and Beth smiles.

"These cameras aren't the clearest thing in the world," she teases.

Daryl won't have it though. He shakes his head. "Stop," he says softly. "You're beautiful," he says again. "And I just miss you so damn much," he finally admits out loud though why he had been keeping that in without telling her, he doesn't know.

But if he can't admit that he misses his wife to his wife, who the hell can he admit that to?

Beth's smile softens. "I miss you, too. So much. I hate being away from you."

"Why?" Daryl then hears himself ask and the genuine curious is obvious in his tone.

"Stop," its Beth's turn to say – softly – with the slightest shake of her head. "Why can you miss me, but I can't miss you?" She asks, but then continues before he can say anything. "We'll be married for a hundred years and I don't think I'll ever understand you sometimes, Daryl Dixon," she confesses.

Daryl confuses himself, too, if he's being honest with himself.

"Why would I miss you?" She asks and Daryl shrugs.

"'cause you love me," he says as if he's repeating something he's heard so many times before.

And he has. Beth tells him that she loves him about a thousand times a day; as if she wants him to get used to it because maybe if he gets used to it, he'll start to believe it. Daryl knows Beth wants him to believe that more than anything; that she loves him and that she's not going anywhere.

Daryl wants to believe that, too. He's _ready_ to believe that.

"Well, yes, there is that," Beth smiles, almost laughing. "But there's another reason."

"Wha's that?" He asks, curious, sitting up a little. He thought Beth loving him would be the answer to anything and everything.

"You make me feel safe," she says quietly and she said it in such a way, Daryl feels like he should have known that already.

He manages to say, "Oh," and it makes Beth smile.

"Yeah, oh," she says with the slightest laugh in her tone.

 _You make me feel safe._

Beth tells him that she loves him a thousand times a day, but for some reason – some reason he knows he'll probably never understand, those words – _You make me feel safe_ – are the best words Daryl has ever had anyone ever say to him.

"In two more days," he tells her through the computer screen. "'m gonna pick you up from the airport and you're not allowed to go anywhere again without me. I ain't never lettin' you go." He says those words and he's pretty sure he's talking more than just research trips.

Beth breaks into a beaming smile at that and the computer camera can be as shitty as she teases about it being. She looks beautiful and that smile of hers makes him warm all over. "You better not," she tells him.

…

* * *

 **Thank you very much for reading and please take a moment to review!**

 **Also, I am working on a random Beth/Daryl one-shot, but it's taking me a bit longer than usual due to its length. I hope to have it up, by the end of the week. Thank you!**


	23. A New Day - Blue Ridge II

**I admit. I've been feeling a bit lost without this world. I wanted to write a little father/son bonding in response to the Bee/Rosita chapter I wrote earlier.**

* * *

…

Daryl's eyebrows raised as he watched Eli's arrow fly through the air…

And completely miss its target.

Daryl looked to his son and Eli was flushed, embarrassed, and looking down to the ground. The rabbit had scampered away quickly, disappearing completely, living yet another day. Daryl could easily follow after the animal, the tracks being left behind clear as day in the snow, but Daryl, instead, remained focused on Eli.

"You okay?" He asked him.

Eli gave a nod that Daryl knew to be complete bullshit.

Daryl looked up to the sky, seeing the sun's position through the bare tree branches. The sky was that perfect shade of blue and there wasn't a single cloud in the sky. Good. They had had too much snow lately and it wasn't as if they weren't used to getting dumped on, but an occasional day without the blustering and blowing of winter was needed every now and then for all of their minds. Being cooped up indoors all day and all night let to nothing except avoidable squabbles.

"'s 'bout midday. Wanna stop and eat lunch?" Daryl suggested though it wasn't much of a suggestion rather than deciding for himself what they were going to do.

And Eli knew that and nodded.

They trudged through the snow to a hunting cabin they had cleaned out years ago and used for when they were out like this – either on just day trips or longer hunting expeditions. Daryl was pretty sure that Spencer and Rosita had conceived Teddy in this cabin, but he didn't like to think about it. Besides, it wasn't as if he and Beth had never gotten away and taken advantage of the solitude of this place. With such a big family always around, getting even a few minutes of privacy for themselves was damn near impossible.

Inside the little place, as Daryl secured everything and made sure nothing was disturbed – either by walkers or another person – Eli tossed a couple of fresh logs from the basket they kept inside into the fireplace and got a fire started within a few minutes, blowing on the delicate flame so it would grow and within another few minutes, it was warm and blazing, and he fed it handfuls of dry leaves. Daryl sat himself down on the old couch in front of the hearth and began pulling things from the pack he had worn on his back that Beth had packed away for them when they had left after breakfast that morning and Eli remained sitting on the floor, leaning back on his hands and stretching his legs out in front of him.

Daryl handed him a thick slice of Beth's honey bread and a thermos of goat's milk and took one for himself before leaning back into the sofa. They chewed and ate in silence, both watching the fire. Eli was like his dad in that respect. He didn't feel the need to fill the silence with chatter.

It still blew the hell out of Daryl's mind that his and Beth's oldest child was nineteen already. He was a man. Daryl thought of where he, himself, was when he was nineteen and he nearly shuddered at the thought of Eli following down the same path.

He wouldn't, of course. The world had ended and from the state of things anytime any of them went anywhere other than their mountain – which was rare, but still happened occasionally – they saw that the world wasn't anywhere near back to getting back to what it once was. Maybe it never would be. Walkers were still everywhere and there just weren't enough people to combat them.

Finding this mountain twenty years before had saved their lives and they all knew that. It was something they never forgot. It was hard work, but it was worth it. They had made a pretty damn good life for their family and they were able to carry on as best as they could – carrying on with their own little world.

Their land was much bigger now than when they first started. As the family grew, they kept expanding the fence and planting more and more each spring so they had enough food to feed everyone and all of their animals and they built more little houses for them all – just one room houses and the kitchen and living room in the Mulligan cabin was still the main center of everything. It was like their own community filled with their family.

Eli was nineteen and the twins, Jack and Cecily, were twelve already and everyone in the family was as healthy and as happy as people could be expected to be nowadays.

Daryl looked at Eli as they ate, helping themselves to another slice of honey bread.

He was tall – lean and muscular – with his skin tanned from the hard-working spring, summer and fall days and in the long winter months, it had only faded just a little. His hair was dark brown like Daryl's, almost black, and was curly, which Beth said he inherited from her side of the family because no Dixon had ever had curly hair, according to Daryl.

Beth called Eli handsome at least once a week and Eli would noticeably blush and mumble to her to stop it, but Beth just smiled and never did and Daryl silently agreed with her. He and Beth had made themselves a pretty good looking kid. He was smart, too, and brave and capable. Daryl was pretty damn proud of him every single day.

"You gonna tell me what's botherin' you?" Daryl asked when they were nearly finished eating. "I can't remember the last time you missed a rabbit when we were out, huntin'."

Eli remained quiet and scratched the back of his head and he looked into the flames. Daryl waited and let Eli take his time. Eli was like him. He chose his words carefully before he spoke them.

"With mom, how old was she when you made a move?" Eli asked then after a minute and turned his head away from the flames to look at Daryl.

Daryl swallowed his mouthful of bread. "Not too sure. 'bout twenty. Maybe round there? And you know your mom kissed me first. If she hadn't, not too sure I ever would have done anything."

Eli was quiet, thinking that over, before giving his head a nod. "So, twenty," he murmured to himself and then looked back to the fire.

Daryl wasn't an idiot. Far from it. And he knew his family like the back of his hand, but even if he didn't, even if he _was_ an idiot, he would be able to see the ways Eli and Bee have been looking at one another. Bee had been doing it for a lot longer than Eli, sneaking glances at him when she thought no one could see, but now, Eli had started stealing his own glances and this dance had been going on for almost half a year now.

Rosita, Beth and Anna had some sort of bet between them. Anna thought Eli would make the first move. Beth and Rosita were convinced Bee would.

But so far, neither had. It seemed like now, Eli was looking to change that.

"She's almost seventeen," Daryl tells him in a quiet voice. "It's about the same age when Anna left the mountain and found herself Matt."

Eli nodded again and said nothing.

"Same with Aiden, comin' back with Meg and Grant."

Eli nodded again.

Aiden had left much like Anna had years earlier. As the oldest of the kids, he had been getting restless since his sixteenth birthday; wanting to leave the mountain and get out there, wanting to see all that there was. None of them liked the idea of him leaving – just as they hadn't liked it when Anna had left – and the whole time he was gone, there was a heavy quietness that settled over the farm that couldn't be shaken; not until he was home again.

And when Aiden _did_ come home just as fall was setting in, he wasn't alone and they all had a sense of déjà vu; it nearly mirroring Anna coming home after being gone for the summer.

Meg was around his age; or at least she thought, having lost track of the years. She was a pretty Asian-American girl with black hair and warm brown eyes. Beth had nearly teared up when she first met her and hugged her long and tight.

And Grant was a young boy, about the same age as Carrie, Matt and Anna's daughter – ten or around there. He had a shock of red hair and the kids had stared at him for a long moment, having never seen red hair before. Meg and Grant weren't related, but rather, they had found one another after both of their families were ripped apart by walkers and they looked after each other.

When Aiden and Meg got married the year before, Grant was the one to give Meg away.

Daryl and Beth – as Eli got older – were both silent with their fears that Eli would want to leave the mountain, too. It seemed to be almost expected. The kids got older and wanted to leave and find someone good and fall in love and bring that person back with them.

But Eli never mentioned it; almost as if, subconsciously, he knew that what he wanted was already on the mountain with them.

Daryl looked at him and sat forward on the couch, resting his arms on his knees. "You know what I'm gonna say. Life's too short and too uncertain to dick around."

Eli smirked a little at that. "I don't want to do anything if I don't know how she feels," he said with a shake of her head. "What if I make a move and she doesn't want it? Then we all have to live with everything being awkward and it's not like either of us are moving away."

Daryl frowned. "I didn't teach you how to be blind, Eli. That girl's been half in love with you since I'm guessin' she was ten or 'bout then."

Eli was just like Beth in that when he blushed, it was always obvious. Like right now.

"So," Eli looked back to Daryl. "How did mom make the first move?"

Eli already knew the story, but Daryl didn't mind telling it again.

"I was teachin' her how to protect herself and in the middle of self-defense lessons, she leaned up and kissed me. Nothin' was the same after that. Thank God."

Eli smiled a little and Daryl found himself smiling a little, too.

"Bee doesn't need self-defense lessons," Eli commented.

"No, she don't," Daryl agreed.

All of the kids were more than capable of taking care of themselves. The adults had all made sure of it. Even the littlest, Teddy, Rosita and Spencer's youngest son, at eight was already good at throwing a punch.

"But I'm bettin' that she might need to learn how to use a bow and arrow," Daryl said with a shrug before taking the thermos and draining the rest of the goat's milk. "Ready to get back out there? I promised your mom a couple of rabbits for her pot pie tomorrow and I don't know 'bout you, but I'm not lookin' to disappoint her."

Eli smirked at that – Daryl being whipped by Beth was a source of amusement for everyone – and they both got to their feet, packing their stuff back up and after making sure the fire was completely extinguished, they left the cabin once again to resume their hunting trip, heading back in the direction of home.

"Back, before, your Uncle Merle loved showin' girls how to play pool," Daryl commented. "That's the game with the balls and cue-"

"I remember," Eli gave a nod.

"He liked it 'cause he could stand behind the girls and get all close to 'em and get his arms around 'em," Daryl said, his eyes focused on the ground as he studied the snow for prints. "I think teachin' a girl bow and arrow would be like that, too."

Eli didn't say anything to that; quiet as he thought it over and imagined it. From the corner of his eye, Daryl could then see him smiling.

"Thanks, dad," he said quietly.

And Daryl didn't say anything, but he gave his oldest son a nod and smile in return.

…

* * *

 **Thank you very much for reading and please take a moment to review!**


	24. The Orchard VI

…

"She's a pretty one, ain't she?" Daryl Dixon asks, a slight smile pulling across his lips.

His older brother, Merle, remains silent as always, but smiles a little, too and nods his head.

"Might be the prettiest thing in the whole county," Daryl adds and Merle smirks.

He had told Beth that she could name the farm's newest sow and she had given the name "Judy" onto the English Large White – after Judy Garland, of course, Beth had explained with a smile. Beth absolutely loves Judy Garland and she absolutely loves their pigs, too, and Daryl's not sure how much of a compliment it is to the woman to be named after a big pig, but he's never asked that question to Beth and the sow is now Judy.

Judy is like other large white pigs: large, white, erect ears and a dished face. And in Daryl's opinion, Judy might just be the prettiest sow in all of the county. He can't wait for Judy and Moby, the farm's prized boar, to get to mating. Beth had wanted pigs on the farm for so long and Daryl had finally been the one to make the decision once her father, Hershel Greene, handed the reigns of the family farm over to him. Pigs are a good investment and once they start getting their litters, they'll be a good source of income, too.

"Yeah, you are, girl," Daryl leans over the fence and rubs a hand on Judy's side, the pig currently laying on her side, coated happily in a layer of mud. "Prettiest thing I've ever seen."

"I'm going to pretend that I didn't hear that, Daryl Dixon."

Daryl and Merle both lift their heads and turn to see Beth Dixon standing behind them, her arms crossed over her chest, and it's obvious she's doing her best to not smile.

Daryl gives her a smile and pushes himself off the fence, turning around to face her, pulling his gloves off. "'bout time to leave?" He asks, looking her up and down.

She's already dressed for their night out; her hair down and wavy, her lips red and her dress is dark blue with white polka dots. She's not wearing her shoes yet though. She loves to be barefoot in the warm months.

"You have time to wash off first," she says.

"Tellin' me I smell?" Daryl smirks a little.

"She may be prettier than me, but she certainly smells worse," Beth teases.

"You know I meant that she's second prettiest in the county," Daryl says, a smile teasing his lips, and it grows as Beth lets out a laugh.

"Such a sweet husband, putting me on the same list as a pig in the first place."

Daryl begins closing the space between them, but Beth reaches a hand out, pressing it into his chest and stopping him in his tracks.

"You're not going to make me smell like Judy either, Daryl Dixon," Beth tells him. "Merle, the blueberry pie is cooling on the counter in the kitchen if you want to go get yourself a slice," she then looks past her husband to give her brother-in-law a sweet smile.

Merle smiles, too, and pushing himself off the fence as well, he pulls his own work gloves off. As he walks past Beth, he leans down and gives her a kiss on the cheek and Beth smiles brightly.

"Why is he allowed to kiss you?" Daryl asks as Merle makes his way from the barns towards the house.

Beth gives Daryl the same sweet smile. "Because he didn't tell me that a pig is prettier than me."

"Merle doesn't talk," Daryl points out the obvious and Beth just laughs.

"No, Daryl!" Beth exclaims, her voice echoing throughout the early evening sky as Daryl playing pushes her hand away and gets his arms around her waist, tugging her against his chest. "No! You're going to make me smell!" She is laughing so hard, trying to twist herself away from him, and Daryl just grins, holding her tight and close, not letting her go. "Daryl, no!" She can't stop laughing and her sides are beginning to hurt.

Daryl leans in and begins snorting into the side of her throat like a pig and it just makes her laugh harder; nearly to the point of tears.

Beth finally manages to wiggle herself away and she's still laughing as she begins running towards the house, Daryl chasing after her.

As Daryl takes a quick shower upstairs, Beth holds toddler Shawn in her arms and makes sure that all of the men and her daddy get pieces of pie. The movie theater in town picks special nights and show movies that are several years old now, but had been released during the war years and those who served more than likely hadn't been able to see them. Tonight, it's a Veronica Lake movie – _I Married a Witch_ – and Daryl absolutely loves Veronica Lake.

He's never told Beth this, but she's always reminded her of the actress – not just because they're both beautiful, but it's their hair. Daryl has always thought his wife and Veronica Lake share the same hair and he's looking forward to seeing her up on the big screen tonight.

When they had lived in Los Angeles for a few years, Daryl had honestly thought that Beth could have become famous. His wife has the prettiest singing voice on top of being as pretty as any of those actresses up on screen and it wouldn't have surprised him if, during one of their days when they went around the city, exploring, some big studio executive spotted her.

After he has changed into a fresh pair of pants and button-down shirt and his hair is somewhat dry, Daryl and Beth say goodnight to everyone, taking turns holding Shawn and kissing him goodnight and Beth promises her parents that they won't be too late; which they always respond by telling them to be as late as they want.

Daryl opens the passenger door of the pickup truck for Beth and she gives him a smile as she steps up and sits down. Daryl makes sure her skirt isn't in the door before he closes it and heads around to the other side.

"Daryl?" Beth asks as they head down the long dirt drive for the road that leads into town.

"Hmmmm?"

"Do you think I'm as pretty as Veronica Lake?" Beth asks and it's a completely innocent question, but innocent or not, Daryl knows his wife well enough to know that she is genuinely curious; as if she doesn't know.

"No one's prettier than you, Beth," Daryl answers, completely heartfelt with his answer and he gives a quick glance away from the road towards her to see her smiling at his response.

He doesn't understand it, but sometimes, Beth just needs to hear how pretty he thinks she is or how much he loves her. He tries to tell her those things all of the time, but sometimes, Beth needs to just hear them and can't seem to wait. He doesn't mind it. His answers never change because his answers are always the truth.

"Except for Judy, right?" She asks, teasing him now.

Daryl breaks into a grin. "Obviously except for Judy."

He lets out a laugh when Beth reaches her arm out and pinches him playfully in his side.

…

* * *

Just something silly to start the year off. Thank you so much for reading and please take a moment to review!


	25. Bump II

**I feel like I should apologize for this. I had this idea in my head and it didn't turn out at all how I wanted, but I decided to post it anyway.**

* * *

…

They lose power about two hours into the storm, but they are as ready as two people can be.

They emptied out their fridge the day before, they have plenty of water, nonperishable foods, batteries, diapers and Daryl always likes to have a few cans of spare gasoline on hand – just in case. Beth has never asked what _just in case_ means, but she's grateful that she always has such a prepared husband. Her parents had asked her to come to the farm before the storm hit, but Beth hadn't wanted to leave their home. Daryl boarded the windows and doors up and it's as secure as it can be. Beth promised her parents that they'll come in a few days and they'll need the gas to get there.

She's not sure if Daryl agrees – about staying and not going to her parents' house or maybe even going up to Tennessee or even Kentucky and getting a hotel room for a few days – but whether he does or not, he doesn't say and just gets their house ready to make sure it gets through the storm.

The hurricane has been downgraded to a tropical storm, but it still makes Beth nervous nonetheless. How could it not? Roofs are still blown off and basements are still flooded with tropical storms. There isn't anything more they can do now though. She and Daryl are prepared as they can be and they have insurance if things really get damaged and gathering the two girls and Lemon, their cat, they go into the bathroom and Daryl closes the door firmly behind them all.

Their supplies is packed away in Rubbermaid plastic containers, stacked in the corner, and for the first couple of hours, four-year-old Lucy is excited; as if they are embarking upon a grand adventure. Daryl and Beth are more than prepared to keep her distracted and they all sit on the floor together in the small bathroom, playing games of _Candyland_ that Beth has put in the bathroom along with the rest of their supplies. Lucy laughs and chatters happily as they play and it seems as if maybe she doesn't even notice the storm raging outside.

But then, the lights go off and Lucy goes quiet.

Holly, their one-year-old, had been napping in Beth's lap, but Lucy seems to forget that as she scrambles for Beth's lap, too, startling Holly awake, and the baby begins to cry and Daryl gets up to get their solar powered lantern that he has been charging for the past few days. With the bathroom flooded in a warm yellow glow, he sets the lantern down on the closed toilet lid and lifts Holly into his arms, doing his best to comfort her and quiet her down as Beth does the same with Lucy.

"Are we going to get blown away?" Lucy asks in a whisper, looking up at Beth as she trembles.

Beth squeezes her arms around her and holds her tightly. "I promise you, Dot. That won't happen." She presses her lips to Lucy's forehead and keeps them there. Lucy's body is still trembling as the wind seems to pick up outside and Beth holds her close.

Beth lifts her eyes and looks to Daryl as he slowly rocks Holly back and forth in his arms. Holly already seems to be calming down – which is more than can be said about Lucy.

"Would you like to hear a story?" Beth asks.

Lucy doesn't say anything – which is just a cause for as much worry. Lucy is never quiet.

"What story would you like to hear?" Beth continues and again, Lucy doesn't say anything. "Hmmm? There must be one you want to hear more than any other."

Lucy lifts her hand and wraps her fingers loosely around the end of Beth's loose braid that is over her shoulder. Beth kisses her head again and Daryl slowly eases himself down on the floor next to them, resting his back against the wall and stretching his legs out in front of him as much as he can. He settles Holly on his lap, resting her back against his chest. Holly sucks on her pacifier and lifts her head, looking up at towards the ceiling. The rain seems to be pounding even harder now. Lucy hears it, too, and seems to shrink into Beth's lap.

"Your wedding," she finally says in such a soft voice, it is nearly lost to the thunder rumbling, seeming to shake their hours around them, but Beth and Daryl can still hear her.

 _Parent Hearing_ , Daryl calls it.

"Our weddin'?" Daryl asks and Lucy nods. "Why you wanna hear 'bout that? You were there," he teases her and Beth smiles when the tiniest giggle escapes past Lucy's lips.

"You were the prettiest flower girl your daddy and I ever could have had for our wedding," Beth smiles. "Your dress matched mine. Do you remember what color our dresses were?"

Of course Lucy won't remember. She had just been a baby of six months old when Beth and Daryl had gone to the Greene family farm to get married. Beth's mother, Annette, had carried Lucy down the aisle and everyone had laughed and let out Awwwws when the baby fisted flower petals from the basket in Annette's hand and threw them on the ground.

"Blue," Lucy says, still quietly.

"That's right, sweetheart," Beth smiles. "Our dresses were blue. Do you remember? If you get married in blue…"

It takes Lucy almost a full minute to answer. "He'll stay true."

"Not that your ma had to listen to some old wives tale like that," Daryl adds and Beth smiles at him.

Another crash of thunder seems to break right over their house and even Lemon seems to be scared now, crawling right into Daryl's lap alongside Holly, who whimpers, and Lucy turns her head, burying her face in the side of Beth's throat.

"Shhhh, it's okay," Beth says, keeping one arm tightly around Lucy and reaching her other hand out, rubbing her finger over Holly's knuckles. Holly suckles on her pacifier, looking towards the ceiling again. "You know your daddy and me will always keep you safe."

"Luce, what did we have to eat at our weddin'?" Daryl asks.

"Fried chicken," Lucy mumbles against Beth's throat.

"I can go for some fried chicken right now," Beth smiles, rubbing a hand up and down Lucy's back. "Doesn't that sound good? Fried chicken and mashed potatoes with biscuits. Yummy."

"Damn, Beth. Stop it," Daryl gives her a frown he doesn't mean and Beth giggles. "Hope there's a fried chicken place open between here and your parents' house. You want some fried chicken, Dot?"

Lucy doesn't say anything, but she nods her head.

"Yeah, you do, girl," Daryl smiles a little and then reaches out and tickles Lucy's side, drawing another giggle from her as she squirms tighter against Beth.

"And we danced," Beth continues. "Your Aunt Maggie had her music and she played it for hours and even your daddy danced. I wish you could remember that because your daddy dancing is a sight."

"I'm a fine dancer," Daryl grumbles and this time, Beth and Lucy both giggle.

They can hear the wind blowing and pushing against their house and Beth looks up at the ceiling, hoping that it doesn't knock one of the tall oaks over onto their roof. Daryl had bought this house and had it completely restored. For her and Lucy and then when Holly came along. She loves this house and loving it so much and not wanting to leave it alone to the tropical storm without having a way of knowing what happened to it, she couldn't bear the thought.

Maybe it would have been better for the girls if they had taken Lucy and Holly to the farm, but her parents are just a few hours away. They'll be getting the same storm. And at least here, they are all together, crammed into this little bathroom in their home. Together.

"I don't like tropical storms," Lucy whispers.

"Me, neither," Beth agrees. "But you know, if we moved up North, to the East, we'd have snowstorms. And if we went to the middle of the country, we'd have tornados like Dorothy in _The Wizard of the Oz_. Remember that?"

Lucy nods.

"Yeah. And then if we moved out to California, we'd have earthquakes," Daryl says. "And that's when the whole ground shakes beneath you and buildings split right down the middle."

Lucy's eyes widen at that and she looks at Daryl to see if he's pulling her leg. Once she decides that he's not, she then turns her head and looks up to Beth. "Where do we live?" She asks.

Beth smiles and kisses her head. "Right here, Dot. We live right here. The rain can't last forever."

Lucy looks at her for a moment and then to Daryl.

He gives her a small smile and reaches out, giving her foot a gentle squeeze. "Your mama's right. The storm's gonna pass and the sun is gonna be shinin' tomorrow."

"Promise?" Lucy asks.

Daryl squeezes her foot again and Beth holds Holly's hand and squeezes her other arm around Lucy.

"I ever steer you wrong yet, Dot?"

Lucy shakes her head.

"Never," Beth answers, staring at Daryl, and Daryl looks at her.

"I'm outta hands," he says after a moment and Beth laughs because she is, too, both of them with their hands full with the girls. He and Beth look at one another for a passing moment, looking into one another's eyes. "I didn' wanna leave our house either," he then says to Beth and she smiles at that as if it's the best thing he could say to her in that moment.

And she supposes that it is.

"Together," Beth says softly.

"Always," Daryl adds.

…

* * *

 **Thank you very much for reading and please take a moment to comment!**


	26. Survivor

**Random fact about me. _Survivor_ is one of my personal favorites of any Bethyl story I've ever written.**

* * *

…

Daryl is _not_ comparing seasons. He knows that his season wasn't particularly the best one in the show's entire run – although when the network runs _Survivor_ specials, they always include Beth's epic complete blindside of Aiden at Tribal Council – but this newest season is just not good. At all. He can't put his finger on why. It might be the castaways. He's been watching every week and he has a hard time of finding at least _one_ to root for. A lot of them are trying too hard to be villains; probably wanting to be so memorable at being a terrible person, the network will ask them to compete again on a later season.

But Daryl keeps watching every week because he's nothing if not loyal and he owes this show a lot.

And the main thing competing on _Survivor_ got him is sitting on the couch with him, leaning against some pillows as her legs drape comfortably across his lap. She's not watching the show though. She's on her laptop and every few seconds, she'll let out a quiet giggle.

Beth's turned twenty-two today. Daryl tries not to think of how much a baby his wife is.

"I don't want to do anything for my birthday," Beth has been telling him all week. "Please, Daryl. Nothing. Promise me."

"I promise," Daryl agreed.

And he's kept that promise. He went to work this morning at the car garage and Beth had gone to school – she's attending beauty school, wanting to be a hair stylist and gathering thousands of hours in training so she can get her license – and this evening, both coming home again, he's ordered them pizza and a special order of onion rings for Beth and drinking beers and eating their dinner while vegging on the couch in front of the television, they have just a quiet night; just what Beth wanted.

He's already given her the present he's gotten her – some hairdryer she's been dropping not-so subtle hints about and Daryl has no idea why _any_ hairdryer would cost sixty bucks, but he bought it without grumbling and Beth's excited smile and kiss when she tore the paper away is worth way more than sixty bucks.

They'll be going to see her parents this weekend and they'll all go out for a birthday dinner, but tonight, it's just Daryl and Beth and honestly, that's the way that Daryl always prefers it.

During a commercial break, he leans forward, taking an onion ring from the take-out container on the coffee table and looks to Beth as he sits back again. She is looking at her laptop screen, smiling to herself.

"Whatcha lookin' at?" Daryl asks.

Beth smiles and turns her laptop around so he can see. It's her Instagram page. She has posted a selfie of herself, holding the hairdryer box to her chest and smiling so happily and prettily for her phone. Daryl smiles a little himself just looking at it. There were hundreds of likes and nearly that many comments, too.

"Sarah and T-Dog and Doug have all wished me Happy Birthday and told me to tell you hi," she says, turning the laptop back towards her, mentioning the names of some of their other castaways from their season. Beth still keeps in touch with most of them and since Beth does, Daryl knows what they're all up.

T-Dog is getting married in the spring and Beth has told Daryl that they're both invited.

Sarah recently had a baby and Beth had sent her a ridiculously-sized gift box filled with clothes and diapers.

"Hey," he grunts in return and Beth laughs.

"How's the episode going?" Beth asks, her eyes floating to the television, but seeing that it's still a commercial break, she looks back to her laptop.

"Lot of 'em are makin' a lot of stupid mistakes," Daryl replies. "Same as last week."

Beth just laughs again and Daryl finishes the rest of his onion ring.

"I have to show you something," Beth then tells him. She sits up, pulling her legs back from his and moving so she sits at his side. "Look. It's you." Beth's on a different webpage now and sure enough, it's him. He frowns a little. "This is tumblr and this is a GIF set someone made of you and me," she explains.

"I don't understand anythin' you just said," Daryl frowns a little and Beth laughs, kissing his cheek. Daryl takes the laptop from her and moves it into his lap, still looking at the screen.

There are four squares and all four squares are from a scene featuring him and Beth from when they were on _Survivor_ , having a private moment together in the jungle, discussing strategy. There is no sound and it's just a random scene of them, standing together and talking – both a little sweaty and dirty and sunburn.

"Someone made this?" Daryl asks, looking to Beth for confirmation.

She smiles and nods, sinking down a little so she can rest her cheek against his bicep. "There's a bunch of them. Here." She moves her fingers along the pad and clicks on something beneath the GIF set. #bethyl

It goes to a different screen and she's right. Daryl looks and there's plenty of other GIF sets, stills from their show's season and someone has even sketched a drawing of them.

"What the hell am I lookin' at?" He asks and she laughs again as they both look to the screen and he takes it upon himself to scroll down so he can keep looking.

"People still like us from our season," is all Beth says with a smile. Daryl sees a GIF – he still doesn't know what the hell that is – set of Beth – of all of them – up on the stage at the season finale, when Jeff, the host, announced that she won and Daryl had lifted her up in his arms, kissing her.

Someone then wrote beneath that:

HAPPY 22ND BIRTHDAY, SURVIVOR VIETNAM WINNER BETH GREENE-DIXON!

That makes Daryl smile and he turns his head, kissing her forehead, and Beth smiles, closing her eyes and snuggling in closer to him.

He hears that familiar dramatic music and lifting his eyes, he sees the show has returned from commercial. It's time for the two tribes' immunity challenge. Beth is the one to take the laptop and closing it, she sets it down on the cushion on the other side of her and hugging Daryl's arm to her chest, they watch silently for a moment.

"Oh, that's a bad move," Beth then says once she hears one of the tribe's strategy of sitting out their smallest player because she's "weak" – an insult Beth had heard more than once in regards to her during their season.

Daryl smiles a little and silently agrees, his hand resting on her knee and his thumb brushing back and forth. Considering two teammates have to fit into a barrel while two other teammates roll that barrel through an obstacle course, sitting out their smallest player is _really_ a bad, stupid move. This tribe deserves to lose.

Sometimes, Daryl thinks about going back. The network has already contacted both of them again for coming back for an All-Star season or something stupid like that and Daryl always thinks it through before giving the network his refusal. He fell in love on that show and he owes that show everything. But he's not looking to go through it all over again. Here, he's got onion rings and a flushing toilet and he's got Beth whenever he wants her. Why does he have to go compete again when he's already won?

…

* * *

 **Thank you so much for reading and please take a moment to review!**


	27. Blue Ridge

…

Breakfast is nothing special today. Just corn mash and slices of bread. They grow so much corn every year – it being one of their main crops and one of the main staples of not only their diet, but the diet for their animals, too – and some days, the children get absolutely sick of eating some variation of the vegetable, but they know better than to complain – at least not to their parents or any of the other adults.

Daryl has shot a squirrel this morning specifically for their breakfast. He cleans the little bit of fat from the animal and throws it into the bottom of the pot for Beth before tossing the rest of the animal carcass to their wolf, Lily, for her own breakfast. Beth then takes corn and cleans the cobs, putting the kernels into the pot with the squirrel fat and water. She brings everything to a slow boil, adding pinches of salt for flavor, and mashes it all together.

Not the most flavorful of breakfasts, but corn mash does what it's supposed to. It fills their bellies and keeps them full until lunch that afternoon.

The family sits at the large table in the kitchen, eating their bowls of corn mash and slices of bread, slathered with honey – the kids dropping dollops into their corn mash as well – and they talk about what they have to do that day. Same as the day before. Farm and take care of their crops and take care of their animals and laundry and see to things that need seeing to.

"I'm going to go visit with Ruby and then I'm heading over to Ginger Mountain," Beth says as they're all finishing up with the morning meal. "The ginger there should be ready to pick."

"Do you need any help?" Daryl asks.

Beth shakes her head. "I was hoping you could do something else for me today."

"What do you need?" Daryl offers without hesitation.

"It might be a wild goose chase," she warns him.

"My favorite," he says with a small smile.

"I need some more vinegar and if you can find them, cigarettes."

"You going to start smoking now, Beth?" Spencer asks with a grin as he carries some of the bowls to the sink. "Filthy habit to start up. Think of the children."

Beth rolls her eyes at him. "I actually just need the cigarette papers. For my first-aid kit. I have no idea where you can find just cigarette papers."

"Amazon," Aaron replies and Spencer laughs.

"The jungle?" Bee asks with a furrowed brow. "We can't go to the jungle."

"A'lrigh," Daryl says with a nod, not needing to know anything more. If Beth says she needs them, they've all long learned that there's a damn good reason as to why she does. "Vinegar and cigarette papers," he repeats so he doesn't forget.

"I know none of you will ever complain, but with winter coming, I know your fingers get stiff," Beth says in a voice loud enough so they can hear, explaining though she doesn't have to. "Vinegar and honey will help with that. And cigarette papers for when one of you get your cuts."

"We'll find somethin' to bring back," Daryl tells her and then looks back to the others. "Matt?" He asks and the young man nods, in the middle of swallowing the last of his corn mash. Daryl then looks back to Beth. "Don't be gone all day or 'm gonna have to come and track you down."

He knows well enough that Beth is more than capable of handling herself, but that doesn't mean he ever likes the thought of his wife traipsing around these mountains without him. Even after all of these years, he still rarely lets her go somewhere without him. Anything can happen and he just doesn't mean with walkers or other humans – though both are rare for run-ins.

There's bears and other wild animals to think about as well as old hunting pits she could fall into. And if that happened, Daryl would probably never be able to find her. Just thinking about it, Daryl begins to frown. He can't let Beth go by herself.

Beth smiles and lifting on her toes, she gives him a kiss. "It shouldn't take me that long. It _should_ be ready to be picked, but if not, I'm going to come straight home."

One by one, the others leave to begin their days.

Anna and Matt leave to go the barn to see to the animals, Anna wearing the baby Bjorn with their daughter, Carrie, tucked inside. Rosita goes into hers and Spencer's bedroom to strip the bed – linen laundry day – and Bee follows after her to help and Aaron goes into his bedroom to strip his own bed. Spencer and Aiden, armed with the fishing poles, have plans to go to the creek and fish for the morning so they might have fish for dinner that evening.

Ten-year-old Eli has finished his own corn mash breakfast and brings his bowl to the sink to be washed. "Can I come with you today, mom?" He asks.

Beth and Daryl can't help, but look at him with a little surprise evident on their faces. Eli hasn't wanted to come with her in quite a while and Beth eventually has come to stop asking. Both Beth and Daryl know that Eli is entering "that age". No matter whether the world has ended or not, puberty finds all, and at ten, Eli has seemed to think that it's not "manly" enough to help his mom with harvesting and foraging in the woods.

"Of course, you can, sweetie," Beth readily answers him a warm smile, hoping that she doesn't seem _too_ eager though the thought of spending the morning with her oldest son is giving her a flutter of excitement in her stomach.

"I'll go get my stuff and meet you by Ruby," Eli tells them both then leaves the kitchen, heading out the back door of the kitchen to go to the Dixon family treehouse.

And when he is gone, Beth instantly looks to Daryl and bursts into a smile. And because she's smiling and looking so happy, Daryl smiles, too. He smooths his hands down the sides of her head and leans in, kissing her on the forehead.

"Be careful," he tells her and it's unnecessary to tell her, but that doesn't mean he's not going to let her go anywhere and not say those words to her; whether he's with her or not.

"Be careful," Beth echoes back to him. "The cigarette papers aren't important whatsoever."

"Me and Matt will find 'em," Daryl promises her and Beth knows there's nothing she can say. As soon as she told Daryl what she needed, Daryl will do his best to move the earth to find it.

It's always been like that; since the St. George subdivision and Beth found her first book on foraging in the forest. She read about things she could use or things they could both need and Daryl would immediately go searching through the houses around them, always doing his best to find them for her.

Beth kneels down on the floor and smiles at three-year-old twins, Jack and Cecily. After eating their own breakfasts of corn mash, they have sat down on the floor beneath the table – their usual spot – to play with their assortment of building blocks that had been passed down from Aiden to Eli to Bee and now to them and someday, they will be Carrie's.

When they see their mama, both abandon the towers they are building to come out and go to her. Beth smiles and opens her arms, sweeping both of them into a hug, kissing their heads and holding onto them tight.

"You be good for Aaron and Anna until I get back, alright?" Beth tells them both. "Promise?"

"Promise!" Both instantly chirp back.

Beth smiles and kisses and hugs them again.

Even after three years, sometimes, Beth will look at her two youngest children and it is hard for her to believe that they're here – healthy and safe and _happy_ – and that Beth, herself, survived the pregnancy, labor and delivery. In this world, it's hard enough being pregnant with _one_ baby and surviving the delivery of _one_ baby. When she had been pushing Jack and Cecily into this world, she had thought – and she still does – that her daddy, mom and Maggie had been with her.

Aaron comes out of his room with his bedding and he smiles as Bee offers to take the basket from him, doing her best to hold onto it.

"Got it?" He asks, his hands remaining close – just in case.

"Yep!" The girl exclaims, her voice set with a determination that sounds as if it far surpasses her young age of just eight.

Aaron grins and Bee turns, carrying the basket out the back door.

"If they get in the way-" Beth begins to tell him.

"They won't," Aaron is swift to cut her off. "They can help me pick the tomatoes I don't feel like bending over to get," he says with a smile. "You and Eli be careful out there."

"You're just as bad as him," Beth says, throwing a glance to Daryl, but she's smiling as she says it and with hugs to Aaron, Rosita, and last hugs and kisses for Jack and Ceci, Beth takes her foraging basket and heads out of the cabin, Daryl following after her.

"Do you think Eli's alright?" Beth asks Daryl as they head towards the barn.

Daryl shrugs. "Kid's ten and goin' through puberty. Is bein' alright a possibility?" He asks, serious. Beth smiles at that and Daryl shrugs. "Maybe he's just been missin' his mama, bein' a lil' shit."

"Don't call our son a little shit, Daryl," Beth tells him as sternly as she can, but Daryl just smiles.

"Come 'ere," Daryl says and Beth steps to him without hesitating or questioning him why.

She smiles as Daryl slips a hand onto the back of her head and dips his head down, kissing her.

They don't say goodbye. They never do. What Beth told him so long ago – another lifetime ago – is still true. She hates goodbyes and Daryl has come to be in agreement with her.

"Love you," Beth says instead.

"Love you, too. I already talked to Ruby this mornin' so I'm gonna go talk to Eli 'fore you leave."

Beth smiles. "See you later."

She stands on her toes and gives him one more kiss before turning, heading to go behind the barn where those they love are buried and Daryl watches her walk away for a moment before turning and heading towards the treehouse.

…

Beth and Eli walk down their mountain, cross the street at the bottom and then begin hiking up the mountain across from them. Beth knows that it's all the same mountain chain, but they have named the mountains around them different names. This one is called Ginger Mountain for obvious reasons. Before the end of everything, ginseng was slowly dying out. It used to catch a pretty little price and for that reason, more and more people were digging it up and less and less cared about replanting it. It was becoming scarce – and expensive.

But then, the word ended and ginseng plants began having the time to grow properly. It grows all over Ginger Mountain and Beth is able to use ginseng in so many things; teas that keep them healthy and help them when they aren't feeling well. In Mulligan's family book, they believed that ginseng helped keep their brains sharp; that one of Mulligan's aunts began to lose her memory as she got older, but they had her chew on ginger roots every day and she stopped forgetting as much. Beth doesn't know if ginseng actually helps with things like that, but she doesn't see the harm in giving herself and her family the very useful medicinal plant.

Eli is holding his bow – as always – with the canister of arrows on his back – as always – and his eyes are on the sharp lookout for anything – animal, person or walker, just like Daryl had trained him when he was still a young boy. Beth walks next to him, her knife on her belt and her empty basket swinging back and forth in her hand as they walk beneath the trees and down a path that has long been taken over with the growth of the mountain around them.

Beth sings a soft song as they walk and from the corner of her eye, she can see Eli occasionally looking at her, listening.

 _"_ _As I walked over London Bridge_ _  
_ _One misty morning early,_ _  
_ _I heard some fair young maiden say_ _  
_ _Lord spare me the life of Georgie._ _  
_ _Go settle me up my milk white steed,_ _  
_ _And bridle him so gayly,_ _  
_ _Then ride away to the king´s high court,_ _  
_ _And plead for the life of Georgie."_

"I've always liked that one," Eli says and Beth smiles at him.

"I know."

She reaches out to take his hand or brush some of his dark hair back, but she stops herself before she can. Eli's been wanting affection from her and Daryl less and less and even though it's just the two of them out here, she still doesn't want to embarrass him.

She knows it's just a phase and it doesn't last forever, but it still stings when he rebuffs her.

It's so strange to her because he's her son and she sees him all of the time and he's right here, but still, sometimes, she finds herself missing him.

Her hand drops and she just gives Eli another smile before beginning to hum the song once again. After another moment though, she stops herself when they reach the sea of ginseng.

The plant rarely grows to more than a foot or two feet in height and has long tapering thin leaves. At the summit of the stem, "prongs" branch off, each ending in a cluster of five leaves. And then from the summit, at the center of the plant, a smaller stem grows straight up and ends in a cluster of flowers or berries – depending on the time of year. The tuberous root, which grows at right angles to the stem, range in size and weight. Obviously, the older the plant, the larger and weightier the root.

Mulligan told her all about ginseng – one of the many things he taught her about – and when she sees the red berries at the top of the plants, Beth smiles and sinks to her knees at one plant to check. It should be dug in the fall and when they dig it up, they take the berries and plant them right back into the ground. It's important they do this. They might be the only ones here, but there's no reason ever to over-pick something without replacing it with more to grow. That's how the ginseng became scarce in the first place. People picked too much and never planted more.

Carefully, Beth digs into the ground, pulling one of the roots. She smiles when the stem falls off easily. If the root is dug too early, the stem will have to be broken off and it's a sure sign that the root is not mature enough.

"Good?" Eli asks.

"Very good," Beth smiles. "See how easily it breaks off?" She shows him and he nods. "We'll pick a bit today, plant the berries, and we'll come back before the end of fall so we can pick more."

Eli nods and kneeling down next to her, he begins to carefully dig up his own ginseng root plant.

They work quietly and carefully, putting both roots and leaves into the basket, and Beth can't help, but more often than not lift her head to look at Eli. He's wearing jeans and a black hooded sweatshirt, the hood brought up over his head, but she can still see the black curls of his hair.

Sometimes, she looks at Eli and she feels as if she's blinked and he's ten-years-old already and she's already missed everything. It sets such a weight of melancholy on her chest and she has to remind herself that he's _only_ ten and yes, this world is dangerous and uncertain, but they have made such a life for themselves. She can't imagine Eli's life – or her own – being nearly finished. It's perhaps naïve of her to think so, but both she and Daryl have trained and taught him well. There's no reason why Eli won't be safe up here, living in complete isolation like they do.

"Remember not to bury the berry too deep or it will rot," Beth reminds him, watching him, and Eli nods, filling in the hole with a bit more dirt before placing the berry on top and then covering it with the remaining dirt.

"You keep looking at me," Eli then points out to her.

"Do I?" Beth does her best to feign innocence.

Eli gives her a smirk in response that is _so_ Daryl that it makes Beth want to laugh so she does. And Eli smiles at the sound as if he completely understands why she's laughing just then.

"I'm just happy that you wanted to come with me today," Beth admits.

"Yeah…" Eli says and then goes quiet again. Beth knows that he wants to say something else, but he's like his father and takes his time in speaking; always thinking over the words carefully instead of just spouting out the first thing that's on his mind. "I've missed doing this with you. Just the two of us, coming out here. It's always been something we did together."

"Eli, we can _always_ do this," Beth tells him. "Whenever you want. I've missed doing this with you, too. I just know that hanging out with your mom isn't what boys your age want to do."

"What did boys my age want to do? Before?" He wonders.

"I don't know. I was never a ten-year-old boy," she teases and he cracks a smile at that.

"I bet they didn't do this," he says as he carefully, delicately digs up another ginger root.

"No. I think this was one of the skills that was dying out," Beth replies, planting her own berry.

She looks towards the basket. They have enough ginger for the present time, but she doesn't want hers and Eli's morning to end. She sits back on her bottom, resting back on her hands, and seeing that she's done picking, Eli finishes as well, dusting off his hands and sitting back across from her. Ginseng grows best in the shade and it's bit cool, beneath the canopy of trees, but Eli is wearing his hoodie and Beth is wearing a heavy cable-knit cardigan over her shirt and both are quite comfortable in that moment. The cool breeze blowing is gentle and refreshing.

"Boys yours and Aiden's age loved to play video games," Beth then remembers and she realizes that she had momentarily forgotten that.

"Those seem so weird," Eli says, remembering a magazine he had found once that had shown a bunch of graphics and talked about a bunch of games.

He understands televisions and the shows and movies that used to be shown – glamorized plays, in his opinion – but video games? That's just something that makes no sense to him and not a bit of it seems appealing. Sitting in front of a box, staring at it for hours, and doing nothing except moving your thumbs on some little controller, directing some graphic that's not even real?

Maybe it'd be different though if he lived Before.

"Before, I probably would have been playing video games all of the time and you and dad would yell at me to go outside and do something productive," he smiles and Beth laughs. "And Ruby would be alive, still, and she'd be annoying me, trying to steal the controller from my hands and screwing up my game."

"I was _quite_ annoying to your Uncle Shawn when he was trying to concentrate on his video games," Beth smiles at both the image of Eli and Ruby and the memory of herself and Shawn.

Eli smiles at that, too.

He's then quiet for a moment, looking deep in thought for that time. "I miss her," he says quietly and Beth feels her heart squeeze in her chest. "I didn't even know her and I miss her. I sometimes watch Aiden and Bee and think if me and Ruby would have been like that. Bee drives Aiden crazy and he calls her a baby, but you can tell that he would never let anything happen to her. Would me and Ruby be like that, do you think?"

Beth feels tears in her eyes that she does her best to keep at bay and her throat seems to be closing in. She tries to swallow to keep it open.

Eli has never talked of Ruby. Beth hasn't even had the slightest idea that Eli even thinks of her.

"And I know I have Jack and Ceci, but they're so much younger than me. I love them and I'd do anything for them, but it's not the same. Not like it would have been if Ruby was still here."

Beth gives him a small, wobbly smile and she pushes herself from her hands, sitting up. "I have no doubt that you and Ruby would have been like that," she says and that seems to be exactly what Eli wants – maybe needs – to hear because he exhales a breath, as if with relief. "It's been so long, but I still miss my sister. Your Aunt Maggie. I still talk to her all of the time. And even if you never technically met her, Ruby is still your sister and she always will be."

Eli ducks his head, shyly, looking at the stems in a pile in front of him. "I talk to Ruby," he then confesses as if it's something to be embarrassed about or something that he needs to hide. "I visit her, too. When everyone's busy and I can go without anyone seeing."

"Why do you want to hide that?" Beth asks, tilting her head slightly, studying him, curious.

He shrugs his shoulders, but Beth knows that that's not his answer. "I don't want to hide it. I just didn't know how to answer if someone asked me about it."

"Ruby's your sister, Eli. No one would ever ask you why you go to visit her," she says.

She hears him take in a shuddering breath then, as if he's also doing his best to not cry, and Beth stands up just enough so she can sit down beside him. Without a word, she puts her arms around him and holds him tightly to her side and Eli turns his head, resting it against her chest like he's a little boy again – and ten-years-old is still a little boy, she reminds herself – and she holds him as his body shakes with silent tears.

She wonders how long he's been holding this in and how long he's had these thoughts without talking to any of them about it.

Tonight, once the children are asleep and she and Daryl are in bed, she has every intention of telling Daryl just how amazing their son is though she doubts that he doesn't already know that.

Beth kisses the top of his head, his hood still pulled up. "I love you very much, Eli," she whispers to him. "And I am so proud of you every single day and Jack and Ceci are so lucky to have you as their big brother and I know that Ruby is watching all of us from Heaven and thinks the same thing," she tells him and that gets another shaky breath out of him.

After another hug and kiss on his head, Eli pulls himself back and he lets out a slight laugh. Beth smiles as she wipes at his cheeks for him and he lets her.

"I didn't mean to do this," he admits. "I just wanted to come pick some ginger with you."

Beth laughs and putting her arms around him, she hugs him again and she closes her eyes, smiling so happily as he hugs her back.

…

* * *

 **Thank you so much for reading and please take a moment to review!**

 **(Beth sings "Georgie" by Doc Watson and it's amazing.)**


	28. A New Day II

**Don't ask me what this is because I can't tell you.**

* * *

...

Oh, Beth is very aware just how stupid and pointless it is. Rosita is aware, too. But they still do it.

It's like how Spencer still flosses after every meal he eats or how Aaron does yoga in the mornings – yoga he's starting to teach Mulligan, of all people, because when Mulligan had asked what the hell he was doing, Aaron had said that it helps keeps his muscles loose; things they don't _have_ to do, but things they do because it reminds them that they're still human.

Still alive.

So, when the weather is warm and the ice and snow melts and they can start bathing themselves in the creek, Beth and Rosita gather their razors and bars of soap and they spend an afternoon in the warm sun and still too-cold water, shaving their legs and laughing over things so stupid, they just laugh harder.

Anna comes with them and bathes herself and then sits on the dry rock, watching them as they shave and laughing along with them. There is a towel wrapped around her shoulders – a faded beach towel with a faded picture of a palm tree on it – and her blonde hair is drying in the sun, tumbling down her back. Rosita has mentioned that she can cut it for her, but Anna's not sure if she wants to. Rosita and Beth both have long hair and Anna wants long hair like them.

In the winter, they left buckets outside to fill with snow. They then brought the buckets in and placed them over the fire, both to melt the snow and warm the water. The Mulligan cabin has one bathroom – just with a bathtub – the toilet out in an outhouse right outside the back door – and there is a hand pump that is connected to the creek, just like there is in the sink in the kitchen, so the tub can be filled with water. But in the winter, they used the melted snow so it could be luke _warm_ water, rather than absolutely frigid, even if it took a lot longer to get the tub filled with enough water for it to be useful.

Bathing in the winter took time and they had a schedule so everyone got a bath once a week – except for Eli and Aiden, but Eli's just a few months old and Aiden's nearing three and they need to be kept clean. They tried to get Anna to bathe more than once a week in those winter months, but she always stubbornly refused until Daryl or Mulligan threaten to toss her into the water themselves, reminding her that she's only nine and she needs to stay clean, too.

It's their first spring in the mountains with Mulligan. They've survived the fall and the winter and they're all still here. And now, they have Eli, too. Beth survived the birth as did the baby and with the spring, they are both healthy and they're _all_ alive and safe – or as safe as people can be nowadays. They are still working on a fence and Daryl is finishing the treehouse for he, Beth and Eli to move into, and Beth has already listed the crops she wants to grow and has drawn a map of how she wants to lay out the garden. There is so much work ahead of them, but today, Rosita, Beth and Anna go to the creek after breakfast to bathe and to shave.

They are all wearing bikinis that they've found in a random bin of random clothes in a random house during a random run. They even found one for Anna to wear that fits her well enough. It's the easiest thing to wear while bathing without getting completely naked and though propriety has gone out the window with the world ending and all, they are still getting used to these mountains to feel that completely comfortable.

"When can I shave my legs?" Anna asks as she looks down to the fine, light blonde hair that covers both of her limbs.

"Not until you're twelve," Rosita is the one to answer and with hardly any pause. "That's how old I was when my mom let me start shaving."

That just makes Anna frown though as she keeps looking down to her legs. Twelve? She's only nine. She thinks. No matter how old she is though, twelve seems like forever away.

She looks to Beth to see if she agrees. Beth is just humming though, smiling, as she carefully drags the razor around her soapy knee areas.

This morning, after it was decided that the girls would go to the creek for a bath, Anna had gone into the tiny room beneath the stairs where she slept to change into her suit and when she came out, she looked into Beth and Daryl's bedroom, the door open. Beth had changed into her bikini as well and was standing in front of the dresser mirror as Daryl sat on the edge of the bed, baby Eli in his arms, resting against his chest, and Daryl was resting his lips to the top of his head, watching as Beth twisted one way and then other.

"I look awful," Beth sighed.

Daryl lifted his lips from Eli's head so he could frown at her. "What the hell you talkin' 'bout?"

Beth sighed again and then turned away from the mirror so she could look at Daryl. She didn't say anything. She simply gestured her hands up and down her body.

"Anna," Daryl then said and Anna had jumped a little, having no idea that Daryl had even seen her standing there. He stood up from the bed and brushed his lips across the top of Eli's head again. "You mind takin' Eli for me for a sec? Gotta talk to Beth 'bout somethin'."

"Sure," Anna smiled and then stepped into the room, taking the baby from his arms into hers.

She had loved holding Aiden when he was a little baby and she now loved holding Eli.

Beth leaned over and kissed her son's head and brushed a hand down his arm as Anna turned and left the room, Daryl closing the door behind her.

Anna doesn't know what he had said to Beth, but whatever it was, it has left Beth smiling all afternoon – even when she gives herself a tiny nick on the knee she's shaving.

"Why do you shave your legs?" Anna asks, scooting down a little bit on the rock so she can skim her toes along the top of the water.

"Because it feels so nice," Rosita says.

"One of the best feelings in the world is after you shave and then you slide in between your cool bedsheets at night," Beth adds with a smile.

"Yes!" Rosita readily agrees. "And when you put on a dress after shaving-"

"-and walk barefoot in the grass," Beth finishes.

"But we don't wear dresses or walk barefoot," Anna points out to them both.

"Maybe we can the longer we're here," Beth says to her, her smile warm and contagious, and Anna finds herself unable to do anything, but smile, too, though she can't imagine _any_ scenario where they wear dresses and no shoes.

Anna can only hope that they're here long enough to experience the chance. Maybe not to wear dresses, but maybe go barefoot. At least once – now that it's getting warmer with each day. They didn't walk around without shoes or socks on even when they lived in St. George's. The only times their feet didn't have shoes on were when they were lying in their beds, sleeping. Anna doesn't know how long they'll be on this mountain with Mulligan, but maybe…

Anna actually can't remember the last time she felt the grass with her bare feet.

"What else?" Anna asks.

"Well, after you shave your legs, it feels really nice to feel someone's hands on them," Beth says with a dreamy little sigh and matching dreamy little smile to match.

Rosita clears her throat then, giving Beth a look, obviously trying not to smile. Anna doesn't understand why feeling someone touch her legs would ever feel nice. Sounds kind of creepy to her, and her frown and furrowed brow show her confusion, because both Rosita and Beth smile at her, Beth reaching out and tucking a strand of her near-dry hair behind her ear.

"You'll know what I mean when you're older," Beth tells her.

"When I'm twelve?"

"Older," both Beth and Rosita say at the first time.

"Sounds weird," Anna than voices her thoughts.

Rosita just laughs and Beth keeps on smiling.

"When you're _much_ older, Anna, you'll meet a man and when he touches you – only when you _want_ him to touch you, it'll be one of the nicest feelings in the world. And when your skin is smooth and bare and he touches you, heaven," Beth finishes with a shrug and her warm smile.

The crease between Anna's brow remains though. Someday, meeting a man in this world? And not just meeting a man, but meeting a _nice_ man and wanting him to touch her? That seems as likely as being able to walk barefoot in the grass.

…

* * *

 **Thank you very much for reading and please take a moment to comment. Not really Daryl/Beth, but I hope you liked it anyway!**


	29. Fifty Four Days II

…

"It's so weird, the things I miss."

Daryl turns away from the window of the diner he's trying to look through to look at her instead. She has stopped a few feet away, looking up to the side of the diner building. Daryl goes to stand with her and to look at what she's looking at. It's an old sign – painted onto the bricks of the building. HAMBURGERS 25 CENTS and a black arrow for parking.

Daryl looks at the sign for a moment – weathered and fading away – and then looks to Beth. "Miss hamburgers?" He asks. He gets that. He misses hamburgers, too.

Beth smiles faintly and shakes her head, turning it to look at him. "I miss having a camera. I would take a picture of this."

Daryl's brow furrows a little at that and looks back to the sign. There's nothing special about it, in his opinion. It's just some old sign painted on the side of some old diner in an even older town. He's been with Beth for a while now – just the two of them – and he wonders if he'll ever even begin to understand her. He keeps trying though. There's something no one could ever accuse him of being. A quitter. And he'll be damned if he ever quits trying to understand this girl.

Beth reaches a hand out then and he feels himself stand perfectly still as she gently brushes her fingers across his furrowed brow; as if trying to clear it away.

He's getting used to Beth touching him. In their days together, (forty-two, but who's counting?) just the two of them, Daryl has learned very quickly that Beth is a toucher. And after their night in the funeral home, when something shifted between them that he still can't even begin to understand, Daryl has allowed himself to grow comfortable with Beth being a toucher.

Resting her head on his shoulder when she sleeps and he takes first watch. Brushing hair back from his eyes. Taking hold of his hand for no reason whatsoever. Sometimes, it's still so weird to him to have someone touching him, but he likes to think he's getting used to it (because he wants to get used to it) and they both seem to know how big of a deal it is when he finally stopped flinching every time some part of her comes in contact with some part of him.

"It's beautiful," Beth tells him; as if that will help him with his confusion when really, whenever Beth calls something beautiful, it only adds to it, in Daryl's opinion.

What's beautiful? The old and weathered buildings? The rusted-out cars parked all over? The tree that's beginning to grow through one of them? The weeds and grass poking through the cracks in the sidewalks and streets? The literal dead people shuffling around?

The only beautiful thing left in this world is standing right next to Daryl, in his opinion, but he won't tell her that. He can't imagine himself ever telling her something like that.

"Maybe we'll find a camera lyin' around," Daryl replies with a shrug as Beth's hand falls back to her side.

She smiles. "And how will we develop the film, Mr. Dixon?" She asks with laughter in her eyes.

"Haven't thought that far ahead yet, Greene," he shrugs again, finding himself wanting to smile just because she is. He manages a small smirk. "Maybe it'll be one of those instant camera things."

"I hope Glenn was able to grab his camera before he got out," Beth then says, quietly – more like an afterthought – as she glances back to the painted wall one more time.

He keeps quiet, standing at her side, waiting for her thoughts of their family to pass. It usually just takes a couple of minutes.

And sure enough, in no time at all, Beth is looking at him again and smiling.

"We'll keep our eye out for one," she tells him.

"Sounds good," Daryl agrees with a nod of his head. He glances back towards the diner before looking back to her. "Wanna head in? See if there's any cans left? Maybe even got some hamburgers for us to cook up."

Laughter bubbles in her throat at that and this time, he's able to easily smile a little.

"Sure," she readily agrees.

And that's something Daryl admires the hell out of Beth. The way she can bounce back. When her mind gets too muddled with sad thoughts, she gets lost for a moment, but then, just like that, she's back to looking at faded signs on buildings and seeing the beauty in it all. It's amazing to him because – as they both know – when he starts to wallow, it's a damn hard thing to get himself out of it. But not Beth. Beth's a bouncer and strong as hell.

Maybe that's something he'll be able to tell her someday.

…

* * *

 **Something short, but an idea in my head I wanted to get out. Thank you very much for reading and please take a moment to review!**


	30. Bump III

…

"Wait. What do you mean?" Beth asks, her head whipping around to look at her husband.

Daryl just smirks a little. "Would think the sentence was pretty self-explanatory," he replies.

He's not sure how the conversation has come around to this particular topic, but that's how it is with Beth and he's pretty used to it by now. She's the only person in this world who can get him to reveal something about himself whether it had been prompted or not.

"But… how is that possible?" She struggles to understand, her head shaking back and forth.

"You're the one always tellin' the girls that anythin' is possible," Daryl says, glancing at her, still with a smirk pulling at one corner of his mouth.

"I meant about going to the moon or something like that, but not this," Beth says.

Daryl just keeps smirking and keeps his eyes on the road, not saying anything further.

"Haven't you ever gone down to Florida with… Merle?" Beth continues to press. "Before… well, before? We live _right_ by Florida."

"Thanks for teachin' me geography," Daryl says and then breaks into a smile when Beth leans over and smacks him in the arm. "Nah. Merle used to go down to the Redneck Riviera all the time, but I never went with 'im. Knew that Merle's vacations weren't really my scene."

Beth is quiet, thinking that over. They have been married for a few years now and have talked and shared just about everything there is to know about one another. He's even told her all about his mom and his father and the things Will Dixon used to do. But her brother-in-law, Merle Dixon, is still one thing that her husband keeps mostly quiet about and is very much a mystery to her.

She knows only the barest facts. Merle is older, was heavily into drugs – both taking them and selling them – and is currently serving a lengthy sentence in prison. For something, Beth isn't sure. She assumes it's for drugs, but the amount of years he's gotten, she's thought maybe it's something else.

Beth has made the suggestion that they take the girls to meet their uncle – and for Beth to meet her husband's brother – only once. The manner in which Daryl shut that down immediately has made Beth never want to suggest it again. Her husband is generally a calm and quiet man, but when Beth had made the suggestion, she had seen Daryl get tense and a little angry and he had slammed out of the house. He had come back, a couple of hours later, cooled down and full of apologies, and Beth had never mentioned it again.

"We have to fix this," Beth then announces, leaning over and grabbing her phone from her bag on the floor by her feet.

"Fix what?" Daryl asks, frowning a little now, as he glances at her before back to the road.

But Beth doesn't answer as she's already made the call and the phone is to her ear. "Hi, mom! Yes, we're on our way, but there's been a slight change of plans."

Daryl glances at her, wondering what the hell she's talking about.

"No, no, everything's fine," Beth is saying to her mom. "We're just taking a little detour. We'll be there well before tomorrow afternoon though. I'll call you when we're back on the road."

The conversation lasts for a couple more minutes.

"What the hell are you plannin'?" Daryl asks as soon as Beth ends the call.

"I just need to look up a map on my phone and then I'll tell you," Beth promises him and begins to do just that, typing into her phone and staring down at whatever has been brought up.

The backseat had been quiet, but both Beth and Daryl hear the murmurs at the same time.

"Mama?"

Beth turns in her seat and smiles at Lucy. "Hey, baby. Did you have a good nap?" She asks.

"I have to go pee," Lucy says, still sounding half-asleep.

"Give me two minutes, Dot," Daryl speaks up. "There's a rest stop comin' up."

"Okay," Lucy's quiet voice replies.

Daryl looks to Beth as she is back to looking down to her phone. "You gonna tell me now?"

"I'm still not ready to tell you," Beth replies breezily.

Daryl grunts something that she's fairly certain is a response of some kind and she just smiles and keeps looking down to her phone, still looking.

At the rest stop, they are one of two cars parked and as Beth helps Lucy from her seat, Daryl swings two-year-old Holly, awake from her nap now as well, from her car-seat.

"Oh, no," he mutters as soon as he sees it and he hopes Holly doesn't see it either, but she does. Of course, she does. She's Daryl Dixon's daughter and she doesn't miss anything.

"Daddy, doggy!" Holly exclaims, suddenly wide-eyed and wide awake, when she sees a dog stretching his legs, running in the wide patch of grass, going after a tennis ball that his male owner has thrown. "Ohhhh, pretty doggy."

Daryl turns and follows Beth and Lucy to the building, Holly still watching and gasping over the dog.

"Daddy, doggy!" Holly says again.

"I see it, Holly," Daryl assures her while trying to walk a little bit faster.

She's becoming more and more obsessed with dogs. They can't even walk down the sidewalk in front of their own house in fear of seeing a dog and then Holly won't be able to stop talking about it and will immediately want to go to it, petting it and hugging it and never wanting to let it go.

Daryl and Beth have talked about getting a dog, but both have agreed that they need to wait until both girls are a little older. Their hands are full at the moment – Lucy's in kindergarten and now it's Holly's turn to be in her terrible twos and with both Daryl and Beth working full-time – Daryl working for Karen and Tyreese and their house renovation business getting busier by the day, it seems, and Beth still working at the youth jail intake desk – there just doesn't seem to be anytime extra for a dog right now. They're not _completely_ against the idea, at least.

They can't explain that to Holly though. She's two. Her life is simple. What she wants, she wants. Being an adult with a job and responsibilities is obviously going to go right over her head.

"What about Lemon? Don't you miss Lemon at home?" Daryl asks her about their cat.

"No," Holly pouts her lower lip out.

Daryl can't help, but smile. Beth and Lucy are waiting for them outside the women's bathroom and Beth smiles, taking Holly from his arms into hers.

"Oof," Beth says, giving Holly a smile and bumping her nose playfully against hers. "You're getting too big for me, baby girl," she teases.

"Guess we're just gonna have to have another one," Daryl smirks and nearly chuckles when Beth looks at him with slightly narrowed eyes.

"Go to the bathroom and then I'll tell you what I'm planning," Beth tells him.

Daryl reaches past her and opens the door for her, watching as Beth, Lucy and Holly go into the bathroom and then Daryl goes into the men's bathroom across the hall.

He finishes before them and usually, he will wait outside the bathroom for them or even go in to help – if there's no one else around. And that's what he does now. He opens the women's bathroom door and lets himself inside.

"Hi, daddy," Lucy greets him as she stands on her toes at the sink, trying her best to wash her hands.

"Daryl?" Beth asks from inside the nearest stall.

"Yeah, 's me," he assures her and then goes to Lucy, hefting her up and holding on as she leans over, able to easily wash her hands now. "Everythin' come out okay?" He asks her like he does.

"Yep," Lucy assures him with a quick nod of her head and giggle as she always does in reply.

Just like at home, Lucy pumps too much soap into her hands – most of it plopping down the drain. Both Daryl and Beth have talked to her about wasting it, but Lucy still hasn't quite grasped the concept. Daryl just think she's lucky they buy their hand soap at the dollar store, but again, that's another concept she doesn't understand. They have soap bars at home, too, but that's proven to be a mistake with both girls. Lucy always drops it on the floor and Holly always wants to eat it.

Holly is with Beth in the stall and from what Daryl can hear, she's still chattering about the dog.

"Doggy, mommy!" Holly is exclaiming.

"I saw, baby," Beth replies.

"Oh!"

Both Daryl and Lucy turn to see that a woman has entered the bathroom and has stopped in her tracks when she sees Daryl standing at the sink.

"Sorry," he apologizes and then holds Lucy with one arm while turning the water off with the other. He then grabs a few paper towels and hands them to Lucy. "Beth, I'm takin' Lucy out."

"He's my daddy," Lucy says to the woman and the woman smiles in return.

"Alright. We're almost done in here," Beth tells him as Holly is still chattering away.

The woman steps aside and gives Daryl and Lucy another small smile and Daryl dips his head to her as he carries Lucy out of the bathroom.

By the time Beth and Holly come back out of the restroom building, Daryl and Lucy are sitting on the parking curb next to their car, eating from a bag of cheese puffs. Daryl looks over his shoulder when he hears them coming, Holly in Beth's arms, frowning when she sees that the dog and the dog's family has left.

"So, you gonna tell me now what we're doin' if we're not goin' to your parents until tomorrow?" Daryl asks and he hands Lucy the cheese puff bag and Beth lowers Holly down to him before Beth sits down on the other side of Lucy, taking the cheese puff bag from her. If she's not watched, Lucy will eat the entire bag and get herself sick.

"Mama," Lucy begins to protest. Beth hands her one more cheese puff before closing the bag.

Beth hands Daryl her phone with a smile and Daryl looks down to what Beth has been researching. He stares at it for a moment and then lifts his head, looking at his wife, waiting for her to explain though he supposes that it's pretty self-explanatory. Still, though, he needs her to.

"Beth…" he begins to say.

"We'll get there later this afternoon. Plenty of time to enjoy it. We'll eat dinner, get a motel room for the night and then head to my parents' tomorrow," Beth says with a shrug as if it's nothing special, but her eyes and smile are both bright with excitement.

"Beth…" Daryl still is trying to think of something to say.

Beth's smile only grows. "Today, Daryl, is the last day that the girls and _you_ can say that you've never seen the ocean."

…

* * *

 **Thank you very much for reading and please take a moment to comment!**


	31. House Call VI

**For Marisa - even though this turned out completely different than what I talked to you about - and for everyone who still loves these two and reading my stories about them.**

* * *

…

"Is that enough?" Beth asks, standing at Daryl's side.

Daryl does his best to not smirk, looking down to his plate that's nearly overflowing with the tuna casserole before looking up to Beth. "I only got one stomach," he points out to her.

Beth's brow furrows, confused, but then she looks down to just how much casserole and when she sees just the insane amount that she has spooned onto his plate, she releases a heavy breath. "I'm sorry. I'm… I wasn't paying attention, I'm sorry. I'm distracted," she admits.

Daryl takes her hand and gives it a squeeze. "Me, too," he admits back in a quiet voice.

Beth smiles faintly. "Here. Scrape some of it back in," she says, picking the casserole dish back up and holding it in front of him.

"Nah. 'm hungry tonight." He takes her hand again and kisses the inside palm.

She releases a soft sigh and sets the casserole dish back onto the pot holder on the table before taking her usual seat – the chair directly on his right. She is quiet, looking at the three other – empty – chairs at the table and Daryl can't help, but look, too, before looking back to his wife.

"It'll be Thanksgiving 'fore you know it and he'll be home," Daryl offers.

"I know," Beth replies – almost automatically. She then shakes her head slightly and looks to Daryl, managing to give him a small smile. "And it's not like we still don't have Abby here with us and Luke is living just in town. I just… when was the last time it was dinner, at home, with just the two of us?"

Daryl takes a moment to truly think the question through before giving a small shrug and taking a bite of the tuna casserole. "Think it was back when it was jus' you and me, livin' in the woods."

"We should have never moved out of the woods," Beth says suddenly, ignoring her own plate of casserole. "So the house was too small. So what? We would have all survived. Instead, we decided to move into this… mansion and now, look at us? It's just the two of us in a house that's way too big."

Daryl chews on her words and swallows before speaking. "Luke and Hunter were ready to kill each other in that house and I was ready to kill 'em both. Movin' here was more for family preservation. And this place ain't a mansion, Beth. 's always been the perfect size. You're just missin' the kids."

Hunter had never had any desire to go to college despite his 4.0 GPA and his 1350 SAT test score. He honestly had no plans past graduating high school and then getting a job, working on and fixing cars somewhere. It was Daryl who started suggesting he think about doing something else. Hunter's the smartest Dixon that's ever been on the family tree and Daryl didn't want to pressure him into doing anything, but at the same time, he wanted his son to do _something_ more than anyone in his family have ever done. And then the school's guidance counselor and principal began slipping him college brochures and Beth began to look at possible scholarships Hunter might be able to apply for.

He got a full-ride to Auburn University in Alabama and declared his major as Mechanical Engineering and Beth began crying before they could even leave his dorm room when they dropped him off in August.

"Don't worry, mom," Hunter had said as she hugged him tightly, not wanting to let him go. "I'll never turn against Georgia. You can promise Uncle Shawn that."

Beth had just cried harder, not giving a hoot about the Georgia/Auburn fierce football rivalry.

Luke had graduated from art college and he now rents a small house in town with his fiancée, Molly, and is still trying to figure out what he's going to do with himself. Molly is a teacher at the town's school and has expressed that she has no problem, paying for things, while Luke finds something he wants to do, but Luke is a Dixon and he'll be damned if he lets Molly be the sole breadwinner in their house. He also has refused any kind of help that Daryl and Beth have offered, determined to make his own way – on his own. He's just finding that to be a little difficult with an art degree in the middle-of-nowhere Georgia.

Abby is their only child still living at home – sixteen and a junior in high school – though this evening, she's with her boyfriend, Max, which is becoming more and more usual – much to Daryl's grumblings.

"Don't you remember when you were sixteen and had your first girlfriend?" Beth has asked him more than once when Abby asks if she can go to Max's after school to study.

Those kids better pray that they're just studying, Daryl will frown to himself.

"No. I woke up, I was forty and married to you," is always Daryl's response.

Daryl's not going to lie. He misses the kids. Of course he misses their kids. To go from being completely alone to having this family – always loud and boisterous and having a rare moment of silent – to going back to his life being quiet, even with Beth with him, yeah, it's a bit jarring for him, but he knows that he'll get used to it just like he's gotten used to every single other change in his life.

And whether she believes it or not right now, Beth will get used to it, too.

"So… how was work?" Daryl asks, looking at her as he scoops another forkful of casserole. Now she's got him trying to fill in the quiet with small-talk.

"Do you think it would be ridiculous of me if I call Hunter and just leave him on speaker while we eat?" Beth asks, giving him those big doe eyes of hers.

"Yes," he doesn't hesitate in answering.

She sighs, but doesn't say anything further and takes a bite of her own casserole.

"You know, when we first got married and it was just us, you used to be chatterin' all the time 'bout somethin' or other," Daryl points out to her. "Now, you don't got anythin' at all to talk about with me?"

"Oh, Daryl," Beth puts her fork down and turns more in her chair to face him. "Of course I have things to talk about. I just miss the kids. I'm sorry-"

"I ain't lookin' for you to apologize for that, Beth," Daryl cuts in.

Beth continues. "I know I'll get used to it and you're right. Thanksgiving will be here and then Christmas and then, he'll be home for the summer and it's not like Luke isn't living right in town and Abby is still here… I just… I can't believe how _big_ this house feels without them all here at the same time."

"We can get a dog," Daryl suggests.

"A dog?" Beth echoes as she gets up to get herself more lemonade from the carton in the refrigerator.

Daryl makes sure she's not moving towards the phone on the wall.

"Yeah, a dog. They're kind of like kids. Gotta make sure they don't piss everywhere and they don't eat somethin' that could make 'em sick. Gotta love 'em and give 'em attention and positive reinforcement." Daryl frowns the more he talks. "Never mind. I don't wanna get a dog."

Beth laughs as she sits down again. They eat for a minute in silence – not thick or heavy. Just a comfortable silence that two people who have been together for more than twenty years develops between them.

"A dog, huh?" Beth asks. "Any kind of dog?"

Daryl gives her a look from the corner of his eye. "Not some foo-foo dog. Or a poodle. Or a dog that can physically fit inside one of your purses. Or a teacup. Or any kind that can be held with one hand."

Beth rolls her eyes. "Daryl, if you want a dog that will go hunting, why don't you just say that?"

"Cause it don't have to be a huntin' dog. We'll get you any dog you want. Just a _dog_ without "doodle" in its breed name. And one that gets along with Kyle."

Beth gasps then, her face lighting up. "Maybe we can call all of the kids and have a family meeting and see what kind of dog we all want!"

"No," Daryl's answer is firm. " _We_ ," he points back and forth between them. "Are gettin' a dog."

Beth falls quiet again and he knows that she's thinking about it. They eat their plates of casserole and as Beth begins washing the dishes, Daryl puts away the leftovers. She refuses to think of how there are just two plates now and they don't need to use their dishwasher as often and she refuses to think about all of the leftovers they have after every meal.

"I want a Golden Retriever," Beth announces once she's turned off the water. She turns to him, drying her hands on the towel. "They play catch and _retrieve_ things and when I'm old and I fall down and there's no longer anyone around to help me, the dog can help me get up."

"Sounds good," Daryl smiles and Beth whips the towel out, smacking him in the chest. "You mean it though? A Golden Retriever?"

"Yes, but Daryl, we are _not_ getting this dog to replace our children who have grown up and moved out and have abandoned me completely because they don't need me anymore."

Daryl gives her a look. "Course that's why we're gettin' a dog."

…

* * *

 **Thank you so much for reading and please take a moment to review!**

 **(I know the way SAT tests are scored are different now, but I went with the way it was scored when I took the test.)**


	32. Not a Bad Thing II

**In honor of the new _Slender Man_ movie, I had to write this one for this universe.**

* * *

…

"Popcorn, Uncle Daryl!" Sophia exclaims as soon as the teenager rips their tickets.

"Yeah, yeah," Daryl grumbles and obediently follows his niece to the concessions counter.

The theater is crowded and he knows that their theater in particular is going to be filled with most of these people in the lobby. It's the movie's opening weekend and like Sophia, kids love going to see PG-13 horror movies – no matter how shitty they are; and Daryl knows that this one will definitely be shit.

He's surprised Sophia asked if he would take her. He just figured she'd want to go see it with a gaggle of her friends. She's at that weird age where friends are the most important people in the world; even when her friends only care about One Direction and the Kardashians – and Daryl only knows those things because of Sophia and the time they spend together every day.

When she had come running to tell him about this movie, he hadn't expected her to ask him if they could go see it together.

"You sure?" Daryl had asked. "You don't wanna see it with your friends?"

"Not this time. Slender Man is _our_ thing, Uncle Daryl," Sophia had reminded him.

And it is. For as stupid as it is, Slender Man _is_ their thing. After that first camping trip – the two of them with Beth and her sister and boyfriend, Maggie and Glenn – they've gone out a couple of more times since then. Slender Man completely terrifies Sophia and yet, she is always wanting to go searching for him – as if he's something real and not something some random website made up to scare kids just like Sophia.

"Maybe if I finally, actually see him, I won't be scared anymore," she said the last time they had gone traipsing in the woods with their flashlights. "Isn't that what you're supposed to do? Face your fears?"

And Daryl may think the whole thing is stupid, but he's damn proud of his niece for attempting to be brave.

"I think the #1 is the best deal. Bottomless popcorn bucket and a massive drink," Sophia says, studying the menu as they wait in line. "What do you think?" She looks up to him.

Daryl frowns. "I think seventeen bucks for popcorn and soda is highway robbery," he grumbles, but reaches for his wallet anyway.

"No, no," Sophia stops him. "You bought the tickets. I'll get the food," she says with a smile.

Daryl keeps frowning, now directing it towards her. "Your dad pays you for scrubbin' the kitchen so you can buy those soccer cleats you want. Not to be wastin' it on popcorn."

Sophia shrugs, still smiling. "I don't think twenty bucks is going to set me back _too_ bad."

"Twenty-five," Daryl corrects her. "Your Aunt Beth is going to insist on the big box of Junior Mints."

Sophia giggles at that. "I can do that," she says with a nod of her head.

As if hearing them talking about her, Beth comes out of the restroom then, heading their way and she smiles when her eyes land on them in line.

"So, I don't want to alarm either of you, but I heard screaming coming from the other _Slender Man_ theater," she informs them both as she slides into Daryl's side and Daryl drops an arm around his wife's shoulders.

"Really?" Sophia asks with widened eyes and Daryl wonders how she can look nervous and excited at the same time. "Uncle Daryl, you'll sit between me and Aunt Beth, won't you?"

"Of course he will," Beth answers before Daryl can and she squeezes both her arms around his middle.

Daryl smirks and doesn't say anything. For a woman who writes about killers and murder victims and goes visit the very sites where bodies were discovered for one crime or another, he's learned that when it comes to anything remotely scary whether it be on a television show or in a movie, his wife doesn't handle it well.

He kind of likes it though. Beth has said more than once that she depends on Daryl to keep her safe and he likes to think that he's pretty damn good at it.

When it's their turn at the register, Sophia orders the #1 combo and a large box of Junior Mints.

"Thank you, sweetheart," Beth smiles at her and Sophia smiles back. "You didn't have to do that though. Isn't that your soccer cleat money?"

Sophia shrugs and hands Beth her box of candy before handing Daryl their massive cup of Coke. "Dad pays me ten dollars every time I clean the kitchen. I have more than enough for the soccer cleats and a bit left over."

Daryl frowns as Sophia takes their bucket of popcorn and heads right for the butter pump.

"Merle obviously is showin' favoritism in the way he pays his bar employees," Daryl grumbles.

Beth laughs. "Your sparkling personality gives you all the extra tips you need," she teases.

He smirks a little at that and presses a quick kiss to the side of her head. "You really heard screamin' comin' from the other theater?"

"Yes, and I know your opinion on PG-13 horror movies, Daryl Dixon but this rating can still be pretty horrifying. _The Ring_. _Insidious._ " She pauses to think of another. " _Coraline_."

Daryl just keeps on smirking and Beth narrows her eyes at him before slapping a hand in his gut.

"Stop," she says and Daryl's smirk slides into a grin.

Sophia comes skipping back with the popcorn properly buttered along with plenty of napkins and straws.

She beams at them both. "We ready?"

"Are you?" Daryl asks.

"No, but I can't be scared of the Slender Man forever," Sophia shrugs. "And soon, I'll be eighteen-"

"In five years," Daryl frowns a little at that.

"- and he won't care about me anymore," Sophia finishes. "Maybe this weekend, we can go camping and hunt for him again."

"I'm sorry, Sophia, but I need your uncle this weekend. We're going to go talk to someone," Beth says as the three begin heading towards their designated theater.

Sophia's eyes spark with interest. "A true crime someone?" She asks.

She is completely fascinated with the books Beth writes and always wants to go with her and Daryl on their research trips, but so far, her mom and dad haven't given permission yet. They think that she's still too young and Sophia supposes she should be thankful that they let her read Beth's true crimes books at all.

"We're leaving early Saturday morning and will probably be gone all weekend," Beth confirms.

"What is the story this time?" She asks eagerly.

"You wanna hear about that, but get scared shitless from some internet made up… _thing_?" Daryl asks.

Both Sophia and Beth turn their heads to look at him and Daryl lets out a sigh. He knows Beth hates when he uses that expression.

"Sorry," he says, but he keeps frowning. "I'm just gonna eat popcorn and not talk the rest of the afternoon."

"Good," Beth and Sophia say at the same time and then looking at one another, they begin to giggle.

Daryl's frown deepens. If he really wants to be a dick, he'll sit right up in the front row and won't care whether Beth and Sophia want to sit there, too, or not.

But he knows he can't and won't be doing that. Not to these two. Both look to him – one as a husband and the other as an uncle – to keep them safe from whatever is going to be up on the screen, whether it's completely fake or not and Daryl considers keeping those he loves safe more important than anything.

…

* * *

 **Thank you very much for reading!**


	33. The Greene Thumb

**I finished this one a couple of days ago, but hesitated in posting it. I think all of my Daryl and Beth stories are starting to be exactly the same, but I've decided to post it anyway. I hope you like it!**

* * *

…

"This is gonna sound weird, but I need your help with somethin'," Daryl says once their food has arrived and Beth unwraps her utensils from her napkin.

She looks at him sitting across from her and gives him a smile. "Asking me for my help is considered weird?" She asks with a light tease in her tone.

"When you hear what I need your help with, you might think it's weird," Daryl clarifies.

"I ask you for your help all of the time," she reminds him as she begins cutting into her enchilada into manageable bites.

Daryl picks up one of his tacos and takes a large bite – some of the pork from inside plopping back down onto his plate.

"I don't think changin' a lightbulb in the shop is some huge favor to do." He pauses to take a gulp from his glass of Coke. "I went to the doctor," Daryl says.

Beth pauses between bites of enchilada and blinks at him. "You said everything was fine."

Daryl feels like smiling. He admits it. They've been seeing and dating one another for a few months now and he's still getting used to having someone care about him so completely like Beth does. That girl loves him so much, it sometimes feels overwhelming. Hell, not sometimes; _most_ of the time.

When he had gone to the doctor, Beth had made him promise her that he would text her the instant he was out again and tell her what the doctor had said. They both know that Daryl, normally, wouldn't go to the doctor unless there was something aspirin couldn't take care of for him.

"And it is. Jus' a plugged nose from allergies, but I went on the computer at work durin' my lunch break and I printed off something." He reaches into the front pocket of his flannel shirt and pulls out a piece of folded white printer paper. "Was hopin' you could help me with this."

Beth wipes her hands on the napkin draped over her lap before taking it from him. He finishes his first taco as Beth reads over what he researched.

"I have all of these at the shop except a Chinese evergreen and the Pygmy date palm," Beth says, lifting her eyes to look at him again. She smiles. "After dinner, we'll go to the shop and get you all set up. Do you think this will help?"

He shrugs, chewing and swallowing before answering. "Supposed to help clean the air. I figured that even if it don't help with my allergies, nothin' wrong with havin' clean air."

Beth just smiles as if that's the best thing she's ever heard him say.

They spend the rest of the meal, talking; _Beth_ mostly talking about her plant shop with Daryl making the occasional comment about his own job - a mechanic at the Chevy dealership. It's his dream to maybe open his own garage someday – Beth's the only person he's ever confessed that to – but opening a garage is expensive with all of the proper equipment needed and Daryl doubts he'll ever be able to afford it all.

At least he likes his job and that's still something he sometimes has mornings where he has to remind himself that this is real. He has a good job in a good town and he owns his own nice condo and he's dating a pretty girl who seems to like him just as much. _That's_ what he really has a hard time believing sometimes; that he's got a girl like Beth Greene actually having feelings for someone like him. Who is he? No one – especially when compared to the amazingness that is Beth Greene. He didn't even know someone as _good_ and pure as Beth Greene existed in the world until he actually met her.

He thinks of the small plant shop Beth owns – The Greene Thumb – and sometimes, he finds himself wanting to ask her about business loans and startups, but he always stops himself. There's very little in common between opening a plant shop and an auto garage and though he knows Beth will roll up her sleeves and dive right into spreadsheets and calculations because that's just who Beth is and that's just what Beth does, Daryl doesn't want her to have to do that for something he doesn't even know will happen someday.

It's just… it's just _too_ much money and Daryl doesn't even know if he wants it _that_ much to possibly go into debt over and then pour over the books every night like Beth does, hoping that he stays in the black and no catastrophes ever happen to push him into the red.

He honestly doesn't know how Beth can own her own little business and not lose her mind.

"We should definitely get you Golden Pothos," Beth says, breaking into his thoughts and she's looking to his list of plants again. "It doesn't take that much water and sunlight. Partial sunlight for this guy." She sets the paper down again and then looks at Daryl across from her at their small table, smiling and cutting her last pieces of enchilada. "Do you know that NASA places the Golden Pothos among the top three types of houseplants great for removing formaldhyde and it's also great for removing carbon monoxide and increasing general indoor air quality? NASA, Daryl," she says.

Daryl looks at her across from him and his own lips twitch in a smile. "Well, if you say it's good enough for you, must be good enough for me and my allergies."

Beth blushes. "I said NASA, Daryl," she points out to him.

Daryl shrugs and picks up his last remaining taco. "And I'm stickin' with what I said."

From the candle glowing in the middle of their table, Daryl can see her blush and that pretty, shy smile spreads across her pretty face and it makes Daryl smile, too – right before he turns his head and lets out a sneeze into the crook of his arm.

"God bless you. And as soon as we pay the bill, we're going straight to my shop and getting Golden Pothos."

"As soon as _I_ pay the bill," Daryl corrects her, sniffling, wondering if there's another one coming, but after a moment, he decides that there are no more sneezes on board.

"And I'm sticking with what I said," Beth quips with that smile – more of a teasing one now – and she hands Daryl one of the paper napkins from the dispenser.

...

* * *

 **Thank you very much for reading and please take a moment to review!**


	34. Catch Me II

…

The referee blows his whistle, the yellow flag is tossed, and the crowd in the stands groans and boos in response to the call.

Ophelia Dixon clenches her jaw angrily and stands up from her seat, stepping up onto the bleacher and cupping her hands around her mouth. "Hey, ref! Get off your knees! You've been blowing the whole game!"

"Ophelia Ruth Dixon!" Beth gasps in horror even as those around who have heard – which seem to be most of the home stands – begin to laugh and cheer in agreement.

Daryl is holding three-year-old, John Dixon, and he dips his head down a bit to hide his smile behind his son's head. The last thing he needs is his wife seeing him being amused by their football fanatic daughter right now. That will also only encourage Ophelia's outbursts during football games. Nothing will stop the outbursts, he knows, but he's with Beth and doesn't want their six-year-old daughter to necessarily sound like her Uncle Merle with a gutter mouth.

Beth stands up, giving Ophelia a frown. "Let's go, young lady."

Ophelia opens her mouth, obviously to protest, but at Beth's look, she wisely closes her mouth again. She may be only six, but she knows what it means when her mama frowns like she is right now. She frowns like that at her big brother, Matty, sometimes and it's never a good thing. It usually leads to some punishment that always has him yelling that it's not fair before he stomps upstairs and slams his bedroom door. Also, being called "young lady" is enough to tip Ophelia off that she's in big trouble right now.

She looks to her dad next to her for help.

Daryl just looks at her and shakes his head. "You know makin' her wait is just gonna make it worse."

Ophelia sighs heavily and slips past him to head to the stairs of the bleachers. Beth leans down and kisses John on the head as she passes by.

"None for me?" Daryl asks her, looking up to her.

"Not until I find out where she's heard something like that," Beth shakes her head.

Daryl frowns now, too. "You don't think I'd say it, do you?"

"Right now, everyone is a suspect, Daryl Dixon," Beth replies and taking Ophelia's hand, they make their way down the steps of the bleachers.

There is a timeout on the field and Ophelia tries to see what play the team is forming, but there are too many people in the way and Ophelia sighs at being too small to be able to see properly. If she was still in her seat in the bleachers, she'd be able to see without a problem.

But she'll keep that thought to herself – at least until her mama's not frowning so bad anymore.

They walk past the concession stands and towards the front gates of the football field.

"Are we leaving the game?" Ophelia asks, panicked, and she begins pulling on Beth's hand as if to get her to stop walking any further.

Beth doesn't answer and she certainly doesn't stop walking. Ophelia looks at the sign "NO RE-ENTERING ONCE YOU HAVE EXITED THE FIELD" glumly and she allows Beth to pull her past the ticket booths. Right outside the field, Beth leads Ophelia to the parking lot curb, beneath a lamp post, and she sits down. And with her hand still holding hers, Ophelia has no choice, but to sit down, too.

"Alright, Ms. Ophelia Ruth," Beth turns towards her. "Where did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Ophelia asks, still glum, but trying to play innocent.

Beth isn't having it and just looks at Ophelia and waits.

Ophelia sighs softly and then looks down. She draws her knees up and curls her hands over them. She hears a roar from past the fence and she tries to listen to what the announcer is saying through the speakers, but his voice is too distorted and he sounds like a _Charlie Brown_ teacher.

"Hey," Beth's voice is gentle now and she doesn't sound nearly as mad.

She reaches a hand out and with gentle fingers, she cups Ophelia's chin and turns her head towards her.

"Where did you hear that?" She asks again.

Ophelia shakes her head. "It's just football, mama."

"Oh, believe me. I know it's not _just_ football. Not where we live. I don't like you talking like that though and you know that."

"Why not?" Ophelia frowns a little. She hears the people around them every Friday night at the high school football games. She's not the only one to talk like that to the refs or to the opposing team.

"Because. You're six-years-old and I would like to keep you that age for a little bit longer," Beth explains though that doesn't stop Ophelia from still being confused. "I know you love football just like Matty loves it and your Grandpa and Uncle Shawn and Uncle Merle, but you can't say things like that, Ophelia. It's crude."

Ophelia's brow furrows a bit at that. "Crude?" She repeats, not knowing the word.

"You know when your daddy is out in the garage, fixing something, and he says a string of those words you would get a bar of soap in your mouth if you ever said them, too?" Beth asks.

Ophelia nods. Daddy does swear – not a lot and not when he thinks she's around to hear – but he does say bad words and when he does, mama always says his name loudly and gives him a frown much like the frown she had given Ophelia back in the stands. And daddy's ears will turn red and he'll apologize and not say another bad word for a long time after that.

"Those words are crude, too," Beth continues. "Not polite."

Ophelia's nose wrinkles up now and Beth actually laughs a little.

"I know. You don't give one hoot about being polite, but I care. I don't want people to think I'm raising an animal. I want them to know that I'm raising a daughter who doesn't have a mouth like a toilet."

That vision makes Ophelia giggle and Beth smiles faintly at her. She leans over and brushes a strand of Ophelia's blond hair, that same shade of blonde as hers and Matty's, loose from her braided pigtail, back from her forehead and tucks it behind her ear.

"Tell me where you heard it," Beth says again and her voice is gentle and now warm, like it usually is, but Ophelia is old enough to know that her mama isn't making a request.

She sighs. "Last Saturday with Uncle Shawn, watching the Georgia/Florida game."

"Your Uncle Shawn?"

"Please don't be mad at him," Ophelia rushes on. "We were both mad. One of the Florida players had grabbed the back of one of Georgia player's jerseys and _everyone_ saw it and the ref didn't call it, but he called it when he _thought_ one of the Georgia players interfered with a Florida pass and it wasn't true. Uncle Shawn was mad and I was, too!" Just thinking about the game last week, Ophelia starts to feel mad all over again.

Beth looks at her and doesn't say anything and Ophelia exhales a deep breath.

"Thank you for telling me," Beth then says and her finger brushes up and down on Ophelia's cheek, smiling when it makes Ophelia smile, too. "And I know how much you and your uncle love Georgia, but you repeating anything your Uncle Shawn says is now a very big no-no, Ophelia Ruth. Alright?"

"Alright," Ophelia agrees in a quiet voice.

There are boos coming from inside now and she sighs. It sounds like she's missed another bad call. Maybe it's a good thing she's not in there to see it. Her brother may be sixteen and one of the best running backs in the whole state, but Matty always calls his little sister his personal crusader. Ophelia doesn't put up with nonsense on the field when she thinks it's directly effecting Matty and his playing.

Like most of the men in her family, she takes football very seriously.

"Did I get Uncle Shawn in trouble?" Ophelia asks quietly, frowning again. Watching college football with Uncle Shawn and Matty every Saturday is one of her favorite things in the whole world. "I promise I'll never say that again," she then solemnly promises even though she honestly has no idea what the insult means.

Beth shakes her head. "No, sweetheart. You didn't get Uncle Shawn in trouble. _Uncle Shawn_ got Uncle Shawn in trouble. He's the adult and he knows he needs to watch what he says around our little parrot."

Ophelia giggles at that and Beth smiles. She puts her arm around Ophelia's shoulders and kisses her on the head. Ophelia snuggles happily into her mama's side and she smells like popcorn and the cool October night.

"I'm sorry for saying that to the ref," Ophelia then says.

Beth doesn't say anything to that at first and she kisses her on the head again.

"I know during football season, it's almost too much to ask, but I'd like to keep you and John innocent as long as I possibly can and if it means having to bring Uncle Shawn to our house and watching the games with you on Saturday, then I am fully prepared to do just that."

Mama doesn't hate football, but she certainly doesn't love it as much as Ophelia does – or Matty and Uncle Shawn. Daddy doesn't either. Mama will cheer for a team simply because she likes their mascot. It drives Uncle Shawn crazy and while Ophelia thinks that her mama should at least look at some team's stats or past playing history before choosing who to root for, or at least root for a _Southern_ team, the idea of mama sitting with them and asking all sorts of questions and annoying Uncle Shawn while doing it is suddenly quite funny to her and Ophelia can't help, but giggle at the idea.

And Beth seems to be thinking the same thing because she giggles, too.

…

* * *

 **Thank you very much for reading!**


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